An Assassin's Prize
by Alice7
Summary: The twins and Legolas return with confirmation of Elrond’s worst fears. Young Estel is unwittingly in grave danger, can they protect him or will their mysterious enemy strike? Sequel to 'First Impressions...' but can be read alone COMPLETED
1. A long awaited return

Hi Everyone, this is the sequel to 'First Impressions Don't Always Count' (possibly the worst title imaginable I know), but it can be read alone, however, there are references to it that may confuse you if you haven't read it. Actually this first chapter may totally baffle you if you haven't read it, but future chapters will be more open. Don't be fooled by this first chapter, it won't be a clone of the last story and as it hints, will be much darker than the last. I think a: 'Mwahahahaha' is appropriate. All together now… If you have read the last story, then you will be fully aware of my eccentric randomness, and to any new readers: "Hi, I'm Alice – note the incredible amount of thought that went into my pen name, I'm English, approaching my tweens, no, I haven't read the books, yes, I fully intend to, yes, I am fully aware that I am rambling and yes, I do know that you don't care. I have a habit of doing that. There is a story around here somewhere…"

**Title: ** An Assassin's prize

**Rating:** PG-13, will go to R for reasons that'll become clear.

**Summary:** The twins and Legolas return with confirmation of Elrond's worst fears. Young Estel is unwittingly in grave danger, can they protect him or will their mysterious enemy strike?

**Disclaimer:** This is Tolkien's world, these are his characters etc, he knows it, you know it, and I know it. There are characters however, that are mine – they're the ones with the really dodgy names. 

**Author's Note:** As with 'FIDAC' I have intentionally changed a couple of details – Gilraen was killed at the same time as Arathorn, and Aragorn was witness to his father's murder. I'm sorry if that doesn't agree with others' perspective of this plotline, but it's necessary.

Reviews, as ever, are very appreciated. If there is anyone who is willing to help me with some Elvish in future chapters, I'd be very grateful.

**Chapter One: A Long Awaited Return**

Lord Elrond gazed across the room at his foster son with a heavy heart. The young boy sat in front of a large book, his dark locks ruffling in the gentle breeze, but he wasn't reading, and instead was staring out of the open window in the hope that he would see them racing across the plains toward home again. They had moved their lessons from the cooler retreat of the gardens to the more stuffier confines of Elrond's study, which Estel had insisted the reason being that he did not wish to risk damaging the books, but his father knew it was really so he could keep a lookout for the party's return. It was plain to see that he missed them terribly. He too, missed his sons, but that was not the only reason he wished them a swift return. 

For it had been months since they had departed in late March, and now the sun shone high and bright in the late summer sky. The month of August was more humid and sticky than usual, and the distracted boy's brow glistened with sweat in the late morning heat. As angry as he was with his brothers, he longed to see them again. Elladan said they would be gone a month and they had been gone nearly five. He was bored. He missed them; his foster father and Gandalf were great company, but it was not the same. His hair clung to his face and neck stubbornly, sighing; he sunk his head into his clammy hands and tried to read another passage. An hour or so passed slowly, and the day just seemed to get hotter and more gruelling with every second. He played idly with a white leather bracelet that one of the maids had given him; so far away in his daydream he didn't notice that Elrond had joined his side.

"How are you doing?" He asked quietly, startling his foster son.

He looked up with sleepy eyes. "I am sorry, father. I cannot seem to concentrate in this heat." Estel replied apologetically.

"It is alright, little one, I understand." He gazed out of the window for a moment and smiled. "Why don't you go down and help the servants prepare for our weary travellers' return." His father suggested, pointing him in the direction of the three small figures approaching in the distance.

His foster son furrowed a brow and followed his finger, looking out above the treetops to see them and his heart rejoiced. Estel's eyes lit up and he grinned for the first time in days. Kissing his father briefly on the cheek, he dashed past him and sped down the stairs.

Legolas looked up into the trees dreamily, watching the birds twitter through the branches and the brilliant rays of sun burst through the leaves. The fair elf was a little weary, the past few months had been hard work with no time to rest and looked forward to sleeping in a comfortable bed that night. Legolas smiled. It was good to be back, even if they'd had little luck in their task. It had been many months since they had departed and joined with some of the Rangers, they had travelled over many unfamiliar lands and were met with little favour. For Rangers were usually regarded with distain to those who didn't realise their importance, and elves were rarely met with trust in the lands of Men. Glorfindel had stayed with Fraener and Hovan to continue the search, which he desperately hoped would not be in vain. Shaking his head sombrely, his thoughts returned to his surroundings again and upon noticing he'd fallen a little way behind his friends, he galloped to their side once more. 

They reached the Ford, the Bruinen running lazily along the rocks, soothing their horses' hooves as they crossed. Much to their relief, they were finally at the borders and rode under the shade of the pine trees, the overpowering aroma heavily mingled in the sultry August air. It was a slow pace, and a much welcomed pace at that, riding in a relaxed silence, they let the beautiful elven song that whispered around them ease their fatigue and hearts. As they continued along the wooded path, Elladan looked up to see his young foster brother sitting up in a tree at the end of the path with a very sullen face. Their eyes met and the elf smiled warmly, but Estel continued to scowl. Elrohir and Legolas suddenly noticed him and rode more quickly until they all stood at the base of the old Oak he was perched in.

"Why so glum, little brother, do you not welcome our return?" Elrohir smiled.

"You are late." He replied flatly. "I seem to recall you saying you would be back in a month and it has been five, or have you lost the ability to count in your long absence?" 

Elladan and Legolas chuckled and were met with a reluctant smile from Estel.

"It is good to see you too, brother." Elrohir replied dryly, as the lean youth clambered down the tree without his former elegance, landing with a slight bump. 

"I see you have still yet to master any grace." Legolas smirked.

Estel frowned, but his eyes shone with his usual good humour. "I have only been walking without crutches for a month and today is the first time I've climbed a tree since the accident, so admittedly I am a little rusty, elf… anyway, you have no right to mock my grace - I heard you all from miles away, at one time I expected another company of Dwarves appear through the trees."

"Ah, but we are not trying to be quiet, we care not if anyone hears us here." 

"And I was not trying to be inconspicuous when I climbed down. You have had five months to discover some wit but you seemed to have failed miserably, my dear wench." He grinned playfully.

"You certainly look well, little one, I swear you have grown. How do you fare?" Elladan interrupted. 

He turned, ducking away from Legolas' attempts to swat him across the head. "I am well and soon I will be towering above you all! You must tell me of your adventures, it has been so dull without you all!" Estel smiled as climbed onto his brother's horse. "And where is Glorfindel? Is he with the Rangers? Why were you away for so long? And where did you go?"

"You ask too many questions, Estel. We are tired." Elrohir replied.

"Forgive me, will you tell me after you have rested then?"

The three elves glanced at each other uncomfortably and didn't reply. 

* * *

The hours passed and evening approached, although it was still so light, it would have been hard to guess the time if the delicious smell of dinner being prepared wasn't wafting through the valley. Legolas strolled through the forests, basking in the peace of Rivendell, away with his thoughts as the chorus of nature buzzed around him. He had awoken after a brief rest, but had found neither his twin companions, nor their younger brother in the house and so had decided a walk would help clear his mind. The soothing coolness of the grass against his bare feet eased any last traces of weariness inside him. Suddenly, as if from nowhere, Estel appeared with a toothy grin. 

"Estel-"

"Shh!" The young boy whispered, before scampering up the branches of a tall Beech tree expertly, disappearing into the dense foliage twenty feet up and beckoned the elf to join him.

Legolas pulled himself up silently and quickly, and joined Estel, who was dressed only in a pair of loose shorts; the scars from the warg attack were still prominent on his chest despite his deep tan. His dark hair had curled into sweaty, greasy ringlets in the blistering summer heat; even in the shade of the canopy, it was uncomfortably warm.

"You have certainly improved since our meeting this morning. What are we doing up here?" He asked quietly.

"I wanted to speak with you… and I beg for your honesty." His tone was subdued, sounding unnatural to his usual joviality. "We have not known one another long, but I think you will be more honest with me than my brothers in this situation."

Legolas frowned; the youngster's expression was unnerving. "What is wrong?"

"I may be young and in many ways naïve, but I see more than you think… or hope." He whispered, a strange sadness in his eyes that concerned him even more.

"Estel, I'm afraid I do not understand. What is troubling you?" 

Estel stared into his eyes in silence, before looking down with a sigh. "Legolas… have I done something wrong?"

The elf smiled gently. "Why would you think that?"

"Everyone is looking at me strangely. It is not obvious, just sideways glances or when they think I'm not looking. Especially my brothers - they smile and talk as if nothing has happened but then I can see them glancing at each other with sombre eyes. Have I offended in some way?" He asked meekly. "I'm afraid I have outstayed my welcome in Rivendell."

"Do you really believe that? Estel, you have revitalized this kingdom, Lord Elrond loves you as a son and the twins as a brother; their feelings have not changed and they will never do so. It is all in your mind, you silly human." He smiled, ruffling Estel's hair affectionately. 

Estel looked down at his hands, his shoulders a little hunched. He opened his mouth to reply, but was halted by the appearance of a rather disgruntled wizard searching furiously for him. The bronzed child's frown eased and was replaced by his usual cheeky grin and motioned for him to be silent as Legolas cocked an eyebrow in curiosity. 

"He thinks I have hidden his staff." He murmured.

"And have you?" Legolas smiled, keeping his voice down.

Estel shook his head. "I am not brave enough or foolish enough to part a wizard from his staff… It was my brothers."

"Why does that not surprise me?"

He shrugged, peeping through the leaves to see the wizard edging closer. "It is revenge for the fireworks."

"Of course." Legolas smirked before manoeuvring himself to sit beside the youngster on a particularly sturdy branch so he was out of sight. He held a finger up his lips and they both fell completely silent. Gandalf was only a couple of feet away now and was muttering under his breath irritably as Estel desperately tried to suppress his giggles. The elf bit his lip and felt completely still as the wizard gazed up into their tree for any signs of Estel.

"I know you are around here, Estel. Give me back my staff and I will not throttle you with it!" He cried out. 

Legolas bent down from his stance and picked up and old nut that had settled there in the seasons before and straightened without making a sound or ruffling a leaf. Glancing down at the old wizard, who had strayed to another tree a yard or two away, he smiled wickedly and threw it as far as he could. Estel heard the slight crack as it bounced off a tree, as did Gandalf, who spun around, striding toward the noise with a menacing smile and went out of sight. Estel breathed a sigh of relief and thanked Legolas quietly. They calmed a little and watched with amusement as the old wizard let out of cries of: 'Got you!' and 'Aha!' followed by a somewhat disappointed grunt. The blonde elf handed him a nut, and he duly obliged by throwing it in the opposite direction, which sent Gandalf storming back on himself, passing under their tree once more.

"We must move." Estel motioned for them to move on and the elf followed him as they leapt from the tree silently and tiptoed away. They had almost reached the safer reaches of the thicker woodland when Estel stepped on the fallen needles from the Pine trees and let out a low squeal of pain.

"STOP RIGHT THERE!" Gandalf bellowed from behind.

"Run, Legolas!" Estel giggled before they both raced past the tree trunks. Gandalf gave chase as they ducked under low branches and leapt over logs and boulders. Much to their surprise, he kept their pace and pursued them as the Last Homely House came into view. Legolas scrambled over a bramble and narrowly missed tripping over an old tree root.

"Call yourself graceful, Legolas?" Estel laughed from behind. "You are doing well, my dear wizard! But you must understand – I have not got your staff!"

Gandalf didn't respond apart from letting out a rather strained growl. 

"Separate!" Legolas cried.

"You lazy elf!" Estel puffed as he followed him to the right of the courtyard and into the gardens. "You just want to split up because you know he'll follow me!"

The elf laughed and ducked into the wilder part of Elrond's gardens. "You're smarter than you look!" 

They both slowed and noticed Gandalf was no longer behind them. Estel leant against a thick tree trunk and caught his breath.

"Where is he?" He gasped.

"I'm not sure, he may have given up or he may be about to jump out on us!" Legolas laughed lightly.

"The second one I think." A menacing growl said as the wizard leapt out from behind a bush at the young human.

Estel screamed with surprise and just about managed to jump out of the way and he and Legolas ran off onto the path once more, toward the house, with Gandalf very close behind, grasping out at him and only missing by inches. They sped into the courtyard and toward the open door before Legolas suddenly stopped.

"Wait, why am _I_ running? He wants you, not me." The elf laughed, although didn't find the brief clip around his ear from Gandalf as he chased Estel into the house, nearly as funny. He strolled in a second later, watching as the wizard followed the poor child down the long corridor toward the Hall of Fire.

"I thought we were a team, and you have abandoned me! You traitor!" He heard Estel cry as he avoided the grey wizard's lunge. 

"What is going on, Legolas?" A calm voice asked.

He turned to meet Lord Elrond's rather bemused gaze. "Gandalf suspects your foster son has stolen his staff." Legolas replied casually.

"I see… and has he?"

"No, my Lord, your other sons must take credit for that one." He smiled           

The older elf rolled his eyes. "I should have known; they act as if they are Estel's age." He muttered, before taking a couple of steps downch ack in a month and it has been five, caoy and rode quicker until they all stood at the the corridor after them. He noticed Legolas grin and frowned. "You are just as bad, Legolas son of Thranduil… if not worse. The incident with the bucket will not be forgotten, even if Estel's sleeping potion overshadowed it at the time." He broke into an amused smile.

"But the sleeping potion did not even work." He replied, a little puzzled.

Elrond watched him for a moment, his smile widening. "Indeed." He stared at the blonde elf for a moment. "Remind Elladan and Elrohir of our counsel tonight, I trust you have not forgotten, but they seem to be preoccupied with childish pranks at the moment and it may have slipped their minds."        

"I doubt it would have." The blonde elf replied quietly. "Estel suspects something is wrong; he thinks he no longer welcome here." 

Elrond turned his wise head sharply and nodded. "I feared as much, I should speak to him and try to ease his worries."

* * *

There was a feast held in their honour that night, but there was a strange atmosphere as they celebrated and told Estel of their adventures in the wilder lands. Most of what they told him was true, but there was half-heartedness in their voices that raised the youngster's worries once again. It was terribly trying; they had left so abruptly and now were being unusually secretive around him. He had gone to bed with his heart weighing heavily, and spurned Elladan's offer to sneak in a midnight snack and tell stories under their sheets as they used to do. His rejection had hurt Elladan and he regretted that, but their secrecy had made him uneasy and he just wanted to be alone.   

He laid in bed in a kind of half-slumber, too warm to relax properly. The fierce sun had finally set but it was just as muggy and uncomfortable for Estel as the day had been, his sheets were pushed down his body and clung to his legs. Even the slight breeze, which had made it just about bearable, had dropped so the humidity was even more stifling. He tossed and turned until finally his weariness overcame the heat and his worries and he drifted off into an exhausted slumber.

Downstairs however, any fears could not be eased with sleep; Elrond sat in his old leather chair as Legolas, Gandalf and his twin sons, joined him in his study. The windows were open, but it remained airless, and so was unpleasant even for the elves, despite the heat's ineffectiveness on them. There was a nervous tension among them and they sat in silence for a moment.

"What news is there?" Elrond asked in a low voice.

"Little." Elladan replied solemnly. "While we were in Gondor, Glorfindel got more word that the enemy knows where he dwells and is coming, we have searched tirelessly but we could find no trace. The Rangers will continue."

"They would leave no trace, they are too clever. Can we assume they are already near?" Gandalf whispered gravely.

"We will have to, if they know he is here, then I doubt they would hesitate." The older elf replied solemnly. "His life is great peril, we cannot let him out of our sight."

"That is an impossible task, father. Estel has an energy and a spirit that cannot be stifled." Elrohir said, glancing at his brother, who nodded in agreement.

"I stupidly promised him a day at the Bruinen tomorrow, but we cannot risk it now. He will not understand – is already suspicious."

"With all due respect, my Lord, I suspect that his curiosity will get the better of him and he will venture too close to the borders alone, if we do not go." The blonde elf explained.

"I agree, a strike would be risky if we are present, and it may ease his thirst for adventure for a while." The grey wizard nodded. "If we restricted it to nearby the Ford, then we are still far away enough to for it to feel like an adventure, but we are close enough to Rivendell to raise the alarm if needed." 

Elrond slumped back into his seat with a heavy heart, he didn't want to place his foster son in any danger, but they were right, Estel did wander off alone and that could cost him his life. Even if they locked him up, he could find a way out.  

Legolas sighed. "Maybe we should tell him."

"How can we? What would we say? 'By the way, Estel, did we mention that you were Isildur's heir and heir to the throne of Gondor, and because of this, there's a price on your head and now they know where you are.'" Elladan whispered sharply. "It isn't an option."

"He is right, Legolas. We cannot place that burden on him, we must let him enjoy his childhood free from the pressures of what his adult life will bring." Elrond explained quietly. 

The troubled elf grimaced, they had no choice; Estel would become frustrated and more determined if they restricted his freedom, and that could result in his capture and certain murder. 

They would have to risk it.   

**To Be Continued?**

Well, what do you think? Should I carry on?


	2. An illfated arrow

Whoah, when did I become 'Alice7'? Curious. 

Well, you told me to continue, and well, due to events concerning the sale of Juan Sebastian Veron and David Beckham from Manchester United to two different rivals, I have tried to stream my frustration and anger to this story. Oo-er. We'll have to see if anyone survives. The Americans might actually know what I'm on about for once, thanks for Tim Howard by the way – he looks like a big talent. Sigh. I'm depressed, and why in the hell is it 36C in England? People in this country aren't designed for sunshine; give us a flood and we'll float merrily along… give us strong sunshine and we turn lobster pink. It's simple genetics.

Feh. Not even Jamiroquai is cheering me up… maybe my exam results next week will. Umm… where's the shotgun? 

****

**Chapter Two: An Ill-fated Arrow**

The day began as it had for the past few weeks - scorching, without a cloud in the sky. The sun was already burning feverishly in the early morning sky, and the humidity rampaged relentlessly on despite the light breeze that rustled through the parched vegetation, the forest floor dusty and dry. They rode quietly, Estel in the middle, a little more cheerful than the night before, fresh from an early morning pep talk from his brothers that had eased some of the tension. There was still a rather uncomfortable hush amongst them, which Legolas sensed needed drastic action to eradicate and so burst into a raucous, if not strangely out of tune rendition of an old travelling song. The dark haired youngster giggled, and put his fingers in his ears.

"I still cannot see why you befriended this old maid!" He spoke over the elf's loud singing. "She may be easy on the eye, but it does not make up for her monstrosity of a voice!"

Legolas fell silent and turned to his smaller friend. "You do not approve of my singing?"

"You expected me to?" He laughed.

"Did you just call me an old maid?"

"Did you just refer to that screeching as singing?" The tanned child shot back, and began to ride a faster pace, moving to the front of the group.   

"Estel, slow down! The river will not disappear." Elrohir laughed.

"But a snail could get there before us at this rate." He whined. "You are so old, I don't think you can keep up with this pace and that is why you are complaining!" He grinned wickedly.

Estel got the reaction he was looking for and both his brothers and Legolas challenged him to a race to the river. Elrond looked on with concern as they sped into the distance, and he and the grey wizard increased their pace. They wouldn't dare strike when he's with all of them, surely? He didn't know. This was a bad idea; he should not have taken the risk, he thought angrily.

"He is safer with us than he is alone." Gandalf reassured him quietly.

The elf turned to him. "Am I that easy to read?"

"It is on all of our minds, none less than Elladan and Elrohir's, they may look as if they are larking around, but they are keeping a close eye on him."

Elrond nodded gently, but his nerves had not settled. 

It was late morning when they reached the borders of Rivendell and set up camp about a mile South of the Ford, where the river ran less fiercely, the temperature rose drastically and soon it was baking again. Estel was quick to strip down to a pair of shorts, dashing to the river edge and climbed an ancient crooked Ash tree with long, tough branches that hung over the water. He shuffled along the bough carefully and tied a thick length of rope around it as a swing. He climbed back down the winding tree trunk and was immediately grabbed by Legolas, who had also undressed down to a pair of loose cotton trousers cropped at the knee, his pale skin glowing in the sultry sunshine.

"I think we need to discuss your dislike of my singing." He said melodically, holding tightly onto his bare arms.

"Did I ever say I didn't like your singing? It was the most beautifully harmonious voice I have ever heard, simply divine-"

"Really? Then you would like to join me in another verse…?"

"I would not pollute your delightful song with my pubescent warbling." He smiled warily, noticing how close to the edge they were getting. "You wouldn't…"

The elf grinned wickedly. "Never underestimate an elf scorned, my dear human." He whispered, before shoving the young boy into the river with an evil cackle.

Elrond watched this with a mixture of amusement and anxiety. "That was a little unfair!" He cried as Estel rose to the surface coughing and wiping the water from his eyes, before braking into a huge beam.

"Underestimate an elf scorned? A woman scorned more like!" He laughed, splashing the cool water at the grinning blonde elf.              

"It is hard to tell which one is eleven isn't it?" The raven-haired elf laughed, as Elladan swung on the rope and dropped down beside his brother with a great splash, and the other two dived in gracefully after them. 

Estel immediately sank below the surface and pulled Legolas' feet from under him. His foster father watched their water fight and settled down beside Gandalf, who was setting up a fishing line a little further down the shore. He kept an eye on both the commotion in the river and their surroundings, alert to the slightest disturbance on both sides of the river. A squeal from Estel made him jump and his head spun to see what was wrong, only to see him swinging on the rope, desperately trying to avoid Elladan and Elrohir's desperate swipes at him from the shore and Legolas' lunges from below. He chuckled as Elrohir was sent sprawling into the water, with an unconvincing apology from his twin.  

An hour passed, by which time they had started a game, where two would sit on their teammate's shoulders and try to drag the other down. It was the turn of Estel (considering he wasn't strong enough to hold an elf on his shoulders, it was always his turn) and Legolas, and it had become very competitive. The bronzed human had a handful of his opponent's blonde locks and his other hand was wrapped around his neck, while Legolas too, was pulling on his hair and was also trying to smother his face with the other hand, avoiding Estel's attempts to bite his fingers off. It looked like stalemate, with neither daring to move a hand. Elrond and Gandalf looked away for a moment, glancing at a deer as it ambled in the shade of the trees. There was a massive splash and both turned to see Estel resurfacing and spluttering out some swallowed water as the blonde elf raised his arms in triumph. Although his smugness was short lived as Elladan stepped backwards and tripped over his brother's foot, which "just happened to be there" and both descended into the river with an almighty, most unelven, mix of curses and cries.

The day sauntered on, the sun high in the clear sky blazing down furiously on them. It was too hot to do anything in the early afternoon, and Estel took refuge under the shade of an old Willow tree, sitting beside Gandalf as he fished quietly for their supper. He lay on his scarred stomach, watching Legolas swimming gently, with his brothers reading side-by-side on the opposite bank. He longed to be in the water again, but couldn't bear the sun beating down on his back any more. He closed his eyes and listened to the chorus of the crickets in the long grass and the low buzz of a nearby bumblebee, trying to ignore the stifling heat as he drifted off. 

It was late in the afternoon before he awoke once more; the sun was setting slowly and had become hazier as the hours passed. Gandalf was still beside him, with a pail full of fish. He climbed to his feet, brushing a couple of dead leaves and the dry earth from his skin and joined his brothers, who were setting up a campfire. 

He grinned, the cooler air much welcomed and he began to help. "Where is Ada?" 

"He is fetching some firewood, it shouldn't take long; the forest is dry as a bone." Elladan replied. 

"I had not realised I had slept so long, you should have woken me." His young brother said as he placed a final rock in the fire barrier.

"You looked exhausted, we had not the heart." Elrohir explained. "Besides, it was too sweltering to even sneeze." He shot a mischievous smile at Legolas, who scowled.

"Aye Estel, the sun glared so strongly, even your brother's formerly orange hair couldn't have matched it." The blonde haired elf grinned, ruffling Elrohir's locks playfully. 

Elrond emerged from the forest with a bundle of dry wood in his pale arms and set then down beside the group. Glancing up with a bemused smile at his foster son, as the other elves quarrelled like little child, he raised an eyebrow.

"They seem intent on teasing one another about my pranks, it is very strange." Estel smiled. "I'm afraid they may turn on me at any moment."

His foster father laughed, shaking his head. "Legolas, why don't you do something productive and try and teach this one how to arch. His aim is abominable."

"It is not that bad!" The young boy cried defensively. 

"Last time you tried, you shot Glorfindel in the foot by accident." Elrond replied flatly.

"Who said it was an accident?" He grinned mischievously, before following Legolas away.

They walked along the bank, to what Elrond considered a safe distance, followed by the twins, who were eager to sample the evening's entertainment, and see their friend's reaction to their brother's archery skills. Legolas stood behind the young boy, trying to adjust his posture.

"That tickles!" Estel giggled childishly.

"Don't be silly." He eased away. "Now release the arrow." 

The arrow whistled along, going high and wide of the target, and nestling in the tree trunk about ten inches out.

"That was… good for a first attempt, but you must concentrate more." 

"First attempt?" Elladan sniggered. "We've been trying to teach him since he was eight."

Estel scowled. "Maybe it was just my teachers." He shot back. "And maybe I'll accidentally shoot you in the foot too…"

Legolas smiled. "Try again, Estel, and ignore your brothers, they are hardly qualified to tease you about bad aim." He looked over at them with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You are putting him off, go and help with the dinner."

He laughed, watching his brothers' skulk off like scolded children. Tucking his black ringlets behind his ears, he lifted his bow once more. The beautifully streamlined arrow flew through the air again, this time whizzing past the target and into the forest behind. Estel giggled loudly, annoying the elf. 

"Perhaps if you took this a little more seriously…" Legolas began sternly.

"Perhaps if you took things a little less seriously, then you would not frown so much."

Estel trampled into the shadow of the dense forest, ambling over a fallen log and was quickly followed by Legolas. It was surprisingly thick, the uneven ground making it hard to move around. He didn't like this, there were too many places to hide and so moved to the laughing child's side. 

"If frowning allows me to hit the target I was aiming for, then so be it." He smiled, scouring the trees for the arrow but keeping an eye on him at the same time.

The young human shrugged. "We will never find the blasted thing if you stay this close." He grinned, pushing Legolas away playfully.  "Or have you come to have your wicked way with me, you despicable wench?!"

The blonde creature chuckled and ruffled his hair affectionately. "I think you may have lost your mind as well as your arrow!"

He turned to him with a look of feigned hurt. "My dear elf, I'm offended! And I thought you loved me!" They ventured further in and he spotted his arrow sitting in the middle of a young birch, and jogged toward it. "Aha, there it is; precisely where I meant it to be." Estel laughed, stepping over an old tangled bramble.

As if out of nowhere, a man appeared from behind a tree and grabbed the startled human, holding a dagger to his throat. Legolas pulled his bow out with lightning speed, aiming at the both of them; he would have fired it at that moment, but couldn't get a clear shot. Their attacker smiled wickedly, his dark, menacing eyes gleamed with hatred and twinkled with triumph. He had dirty black hair with the shadow of his stubble accentuating his deep tan, and looked as if he had been travelling under the baking sun for weeks.  

"Release him." Legolas growled.

The man laughed coldly. "You are in no position to give orders, elf." He replied, as three other men surrounded them. "Utter a sound or move a muscle and I will cut his throat."

Legolas narrowed his eyes, staring at him silently before lowering his gaze to Estel. He looked confused and terrified; eyes wide, struggling desperately in vein to squirm from his captor's hold. He elbowed him in the stomach, but still couldn't break free and felt the sharp blade press further into his skin, drawing blood.

"He's a strong one." He tightened his grip. "Lower your bow, or be witness to his slaughter. I will not warn you again."

The blonde elf glanced sideways, his accomplices were heavily armed and their swords were readied. He glimpsed at the young human again, blood trickling down his neck and reluctantly relaxed his grip. 

"Who are you?" He snarled.

One of them men who stood his left; a burly figure with a mop of scruffy brown curls and podgy cheeks, grunted and lashed out, striking the elf in the back of the head with the hilt of his sword. He fell to the ground, head swimming and throbbing painfully, his slender fingers sunk into the damp ground that had been heavily sheltered from the sun. Taking a moment to find his bearings once more, he listened as the ebony haired man who held Estel scolded the brawny one who had hit him, angrily, and took his opportunity, charging at him with speed and surprising power. They fell to the ground with a bump and his grip of Estel disappeared. 

Legolas grabbed his hand and pulled him along, they hurried deeper into the forest, hotly pursued by their attackers. Faster, they had to move faster. But it was overgrown and Estel was so frightened his legs trembled he struggled to climb over the rocks and fallen branches. Legolas stumbled, still groggy from his blow to the head, and quickly was caught. Estel stopped and watched in horror as they knocked the elf to the ground and beat him mercilessly.

"Run, Estel!" He cried, before the larger man kicked him hard in the head and he fell into unconsciousness.

His legs wouldn't work. Whether it was out of shocked terror or he couldn't leave his friend when in peril, he did not move. He stood, frozen to the spot, staring at the bloodied form of his friend on the ground. The one with the vicious eyes laughed grimly and pushed him onto the brambles, the thorns cutting into his skin. Estel looked up briefly, his lip bleeding and swollen, before the base of his sword connected with his skull and he descended into darkness.

"What do we do with the elf?" One grunted, pushing his blonde hair that was now streaked with blood, from his pale but battered face. 

"Take him, I want something to play with." He replied with wicked smirk.

Tbc…       

Thank you my reviewers:

Maranwe1 – Of course I had to ask, but I can find some things to criticise. Glad you found the last chapters funny, I can't remember what they were about oddly enough.

Trustingfriendship – ooh, you'll have to wait and see. I'm in a vengeful mood, so who knows what in store for him!

Lina Skye – you wicked woman! Me put Estel in peril? Never. * cough *

Inwe of Mirkwood – honestly, why did you pick such a long name? Impeccable eh? Didn't realise you knew how to compliment me…It's necessary that Estel's this young alright… omg there's a bee in your room. Shit. 

Grumpy – I like that description… lovable imp. That's cute.

Leggylover03 – of course I ended it there, cliffies are the most satisfying thing about writing. Mwahahahaha. Have you still got little Legless in your butterfly net?

Alex mistress squirrel – omg that's a great name! Joke: how do you catch a squirrel? I'll tell you how next Saturday…

Tinnuial – damn, your senses are wrong. The heat of England has got to me, so my other chapters make little sense.

Nayru – Alright, I'm carrying on, I wouldn't call it excellent though.

Silvertoekee – I'm after Estel. Mwahahahaha, it's official: I've gone insane, all I ask for is rain! Is that so hard?

Tithen Min – Yes, where is SoS, you're making me vengeful! Torture? Mwahahahaha… enough with the evil laugh Alice. I am the Queen of Evil, you cannot take my crown.

Dragon girl – Aaw, thank you, I will. Can _you _manage a Mwahahahaha for me?

Enough, I'm going to see a counsellor. 


	3. A Waking Nightmare

Just a pre-warning: I'll bump this up to an R from the next chapter onwards, because the evilness has risen inside me, I'm also going to switch the secondary category or whatever it's called from 'General' to 'Angst'. So if you have your story preferences set up a certain way, you may miss it, and you don't wanna do that, do you? 

Without trying to spoil what's in this chapter, I feel it's necessary to warn you that it contains violence and some adult themes that may offend some of you. 

Anyway, enough with formal shit. I was nearly killed by Aragorn the other day! I was casually strolling round the DVD section in a shop and whom should I bang into? A bloody life size cardboard cut out of Aragorn, that's who. It came crashing down on me and the whole shop stared at me like I was some drunken mad lady with 40 cats… they wouldn't even let me take it home afterwards. Sigh. I blame the government. 

Nearly forgot, considering that I'm utterly incompetent with most languages, the Elvish used in this story is courtesy of Tithen Min and Naomi and a big thank you to them. 

****

**Chapter Three: A Waking Nightmare**

A loud screech from an old crow made the group jump. Gandalf and Elrohir looked up from the crackling fire, and Elrond and his eldest son paused from peeling the vegetables. They could no longer hear Estel laughing and Legolas scolding. They gazed over the land, looking out for Legolas and his reluctant pupil near to the trees, but they were nowhere to be seen. Elrond rose to his feet, frowning deeply. He beckoned his sons along as the wizard reluctantly continued to tend to their supper.

"We will call you if the need arises, Gandalf. It is probably a false alarm." Elladan spoke quietly, before hurrying after his family. 

They scuttled toward where the two companions had been practising. An arrow remained lodged in an old tree trunk and there were two light sets of tracks in the dusty ground. They glanced at one another warily and Elrond led the way into the ancient, overgrown woodland.

"Estel? Legolas?" Elrohir cried, looking around the oddly quiet trees.

There was no response and they called out again. Elrond pushed his dark hair over his shoulder and followed their tracks; the damp ground making them far easier to see. 

"Ada, there is one of Estel's arrows." Elladan said, climbing over the dense brush.

He froze.

"There is blood here." He announced gravely. "And several sets of tracks."

Elrond knelt beside him. "There is sign of a struggle…" He replied grimly, tracing the ground with his slender his fingers. "They ran and were followed."

Both rose to their feet and trailed them deeper into the forest. They stopped dead in their tracks, looking to Elrohir, who had gone on ahead. He stared back at them with a great sadness. 

"There is blood in two separate spots." He mumbled. "They are gone."

Elrond closed his eyes in despair. "They have not killed him yet, so there it still hope. Raise the alarm and gather as many as you can; Gandalf and I will track them now. They are moving south."

"But father-"

"Please…" Their father pleaded quietly, his voice stained with worry. "Just do as I ask." 

The twins looked at him, and saw the fear and despair in his eyes that rarely surfaced, and nodded reluctantly.

**A Few Days Later…**

He shook at his arm again, desperate for him to wake; he couldn't bear to be alone anymore. Estel gazed down at him, his injuries clear and harrowing. He had washed away most of the blood, but there were bruises all over his face and a bloody gash on his temple that worried Estel greatly. Legolas stirred, but couldn't bring himself to open his eyes. His head throbbed painfully and he raised his bound hands to the bloody lump on his temple. Lying on the damp ground, the moss cool against his skin, he moaned gently.  

"Legolas?" He heard a voice hiss. "Please open your eyes." The terrible fear in the voice rang in his ears. 

He didn't move at first, his head swam, trying to remember what had happened. Suddenly, the fair elf realised who it was and his eyes shot open. Water dripped from a crack above them, falling into a shallow puddle between them and a burning torch further down the tunnel was their only source of light. He gaped at Estel, who knelt beside him with his hands tied tightly, there was a dark, angry bruise with a small gash on his forehead and he had a black eye that was swollen terribly. There were small cuts and bruises all over his torso and streaks of dirt stained his skin. His lip was bleeding and the playful sparkle that had always warmed Legolas' heart had disappeared. 

"I thought you were dead." He mumbled vaguely, glancing around the desolate cave nervously. "We have been travelling south for three days that I can remember; I awoke on a horse at dawn, I think it was the morning after they captured us. I did not see you at first, I thought they had abandoned you in the woods, but then I caught a glimpse of you further behind, there was so much blood, I couldn't see your face, but your eyes were shut. I have never seen an elf sleeping with their eyes closed, so I thought-" Estel became more panicked, trembling.

"Calm down, Estel. We must flee." Legolas whispered, staggering to his feet.

"No, he is waiting." The young human replied in a low voice. "In the shadows; he is there. He keeps asking me questions, but I do not understand them. What does he want with us?"

"Now is not the time; we must escape." He muttered, pulling Estel to his feet.

"You will not go anywhere, Prince Legolas." A grim voice said, and the man with dark hair appeared, drawing his sword on them both. "I would get back on your knees, elf, or I will be forced to slice those pretty little pointed ears of yours off." 

Legolas didn't move, staring at him defiantly as two other men appeared at his flank and one remained in the shadows, though the cold threatening glint of his sword made sure his presence was felt. Neither did he flinch when the sword dug into his pale skin, and blood dribbled down his neck slowly. The man smiled wickedly, and drew the brutal blade away.

"You are a stubborn being, but I will have my fun making you squeal." He growled. "Luckily for you, my business is not with a filthy elf."

Legolas clenched his jaw and backed away, shielding Estel protectively. "Who are you and what do you want with us?"

He laughed coldly. "I have many names and many identities, elf. But you may address me as 'Raenir' when you beg for mercy. Like I said, I want nothing of you, it is the boy who interests me, but you have known that for many months, haven't you?" 

He didn't reply, only glancing at Estel, who stared back at him with wide, fearful eyes that screamed with anger and confusion. His young friend edged away, until the cold, dirty rock of the cave wall scraped against his back. Raenir smirked, and strolled over to him, pushing his head back violently. 

"That's right… Estel." He murmured, speaking his name with contempt. "Those filthy elves you think are your family, have known this day would come since you burdened them with your presence. They wanted it to come…" He spat. "They are not searching for you, they are holding a day of celebration."

"Do not listen to him, Estel. He lies. They are searching for us."

Raenir snorted, smirking callously. "Estel… that is a queer name for a boy. A filthy word of the elven tongue no doubt, does it have a meaning?" He held the frightened child's chin up roughly.

Estel remained silent. He couldn't bring himself to reply. His mouth was dry and couldn't get out the words.

"He does not have to speak." Legolas snarled, moving to his side. 

He turned his head to face the blonde elf. "You both will do as I say. You speak when I tell you to and you will answer any question we ask. There is no choice other than do as I order, or I will cut your throats." His menacing eyes glowed in the dim light.

Raenir looked back to Estel, staring at him with irritation. "Speak quickly."

"…H-hope." Estel mumbled, his voice almost inaudible.

Raenir laughed, and the others joined in, the cold cackling echoed around the cave and the dark-haired youth lowered his head, his cheeks flushed deeply. Legolas frowned, and took his hand to try comfort him, but he flinched away.

"And why do they call you that?" 

"That is my name." He muttered with a sudden defiance. "Why do you have many names? Nobody needs more than one." He growled, ceasing his resistance of his friend's grip.

"Ah, there _is_ fire in this one's gut. It is about time you stopped crying like a lesser man."

"I have not cried." Estel scowled.

"You have not stopped." The burly man, Grudoc, they called him, stepped forward. "But what could you expect from a boy who was brought up by elves. We will make you a real man."

"And I suppose you are a real man?" The bruised child spat.

"Tampa, Estel. Gwiil." _[Stop, Estel. Peace.] _Legolas murmured, feeling a surge of anger in his friend.

"You speak that in tongue again, and I will cut out yours." Raenir growled angrily, smacking him in the head. He glanced and saw him holding Estel's trembling hand and smirked. "Look," Their captor laughed." There is nothing more special than the love between a man and his elf." He sneered.

"What do you want with me?" Estel asked, trying to sound as brave and angry as he could, but it came out only as a meek whisper.

They all laughed again and another figure approached him, tall and broadly built, he too, had dark locks and looked as weatherworn as a Ranger. There was no kindness in his face, or pity, only a cruel lust in his cold blue eyes. Estel could see it, as could Legolas, and his heart sank further. Carinyc, as they later discovered his name was, knelt down beside Raenir and ran his fingers through Estel's ebony locks, before trailing a finger softly along his jaw. He trembled at his touch and squeezed his companion's fingers tightly.

"He's a pretty thing." There was a depraved tone in his voice. "I will enjoy this one."

"You will not touch him!" The fair elf cried angrily, kicking out viciously at Carinyc.

He fell backwards in pain, shocked at the speed of Legolas' boot. Quickly Carinyc clambered up and kicked him in the stomach violently, the elf bent over in agony, but he did not make a sound. He would not show weakness. He would not break in front of them. For Estel's sake. He heard his young friend cry out after him and the laughter that followed. He felt the tentative, concerned touch of Estel on his back, but then was suddenly dragged forward on his knees.

"You will beg for forgiveness, you filthy elf." Raenir's lip curled, his nasty temper rearing up.

"I will beg for nothing." Legolas spat.

He snorted, and nodded at Grudoc grimly. "You can say that, and insist on your pride, but I promise you it will not last. Grudoc has taken a particular dislike to you, and now you have offended Carinyc too. I cannot deny that we brought you along for my own enjoyment… It does not bode well for you." He growled loudly and then knelt beside him, leaning in closely. "Nor does it for your friend. I will not hold them back and how will you protect him then? He desires your little… Estel, you can see it in his eyes. He can be very… vicious. Who knows what state he will be in when you awake?" Raenir whispered, and the elf's lip quivered.

They pulled his bloodstained tunic off and cast it aside. He heard a whistling whoosh behind him and then felt the lash of a whip crack against his back. It stung unbearably but he clenched his jaw and took it silently. Another slash at his pale skin, the pain enough to bring tears to his eyes, but he didn't let them fall. Legolas could hear them talking, laughing, enjoying the pain they caused.

A sudden kick to the stomach from Raenir caught him off guard and he let out a soft moan, falling onto his back. They smirked, looking down at him smugly and began to lash out him. He curled into a ball, trying to protect himself from their ferocious blows until they finally eased off. Legolas stood unsteadily, his body battered and bloody, swaying before one of them hacked him to the ground. His mind began to swim as the blows came quicker and harder against his body; he felt the fat, grubby hand of Grudoc pull his chin up. Legolas stared up at him with emotionless unblinking eyes as his heavy fist connected with the elf's face. Collapsing to the ground, he was quickly dragged to his knees again, his head fell, blood gushing from his mouth and nose making it hard to breath. The whip ripped against him once more, sore, bleeding welts forming on his back with each strike. It continued relentlessly for what seemed like hours, until he could feel consciousness slipping away from him and finally turned to look at Estel. He had heard him screaming out to him, begging them to stop, but he had not looked, afraid his eyes would show fear or defeat and he could not let that happen. His young companion had gone quiet of late, and that worried him more. 

Turning his head tiredly, his heart sank. Estel was still there, no longer watching his torture. He had no new injuries, but beside him was Carinyc. He was kneeling close to youngster and had a strong hold of his arm. Carinyc was clearly whispering in his ear and Estel's lip trembled with every word, eyes clenched tightly as if he were willing himself to wake up from a nightmare. He wanted to kill Carinyc. Rip those wicked eyes from his skull. Hatred burned inside him like never before. He looked so afraid, he thought sadly to himself. And with good reason. 

Another strike hit him cruelly across the neck and he blacked out, falling to ground with a thud.    

Tbc…

Thanks to my reviewers, always a joy to read…

Brethil – *glares evilly back* I'm afraid that I rather enjoy cliffhangers, there's gonna be about 20 chapters to this story and at least half are cliffies… hehe. (I've restrained from saying Mwahahahaha, it hurts my throat)

RougeElf – 110F eh? Harsh. Well, we're just pale Britons who secretly enjoy the cold and rain and we can't take this heat. It's quite cool again here though.

Xsilicax – Evil? Moi? Totally. You'll have to wait and see… but it's more extreme than last time, or is it? I'm really indecisive… *goes off to lay down*

Tigerlily713 – Happy? You're an evil woman, how can you want Legless hurt? The moral majority can't be all that moral if they're still reading can they?

Grumpy – I like hurting him! Legless' hair is a bit messy at the mo, sorry… But, yes, I agree, it's not good for his hair, but I like messy hair – I'm an Aragorn worshipper!

Inwe – You're like god… and you expect to get into heaven?! Oo-er, I'll see you in hell. You have no power, I'll use another computer…

Leggylover03 – 'fraid he didn't… Elrond's a big, unobservant waste of space. Kidding, I love Hugo.

Alex mistress squirrel – it's very fetching! A: You climb up a tree and act like a nut! Sorry, my friend's told that joke non-stop for three years and she laughs at it every time… Q: Why did the squirrel fall out the tree?

Ryoko: The Welsh Elf – I love the Welsh! Giggsy's scored twice today. Yes, I'm strange…

Tithen Min – Well, it's cooled down and I'm still vengeful and manic I'm afraid! Mwahahahaha! There is evil in my blood, so no let off, besides you can't call me evil, I still see no SoS… post it or the elf gets it!      


	4. Playing in the rain

Woohoo! The Two Towers is with us! Mmm…topless Orli. Billy and Dom are hilarious and what is up with that Sean Astin film?! Still don't know why it was on sale in HMV on the 22nd, but oh well. *Bounces* Sorry, I'm hyper from a mix of sport (football, cricket, F1, athletics and rugby in one day-phew) watching Family Guy (Stewie is my god!) and a white chocolate ice-cream… Erm, I won't talk anymore.

****

**Chapter Four: Playing in the Rain**

Dusk fell upon the land, the last minutes of the feverish August sun filtered through the gathering storm clouds. The last chirps and coos of the birds echoed around them, as they raced briskly across the lonely plains in the shadow of the Misty Mountains in the east. Only as the sun finally disappeared and darkness overcame them did they stop travelling, scouring the barren land for somewhere to camp, before finally settling at the base of a steep hill for the night. There was a slight overhang that would provide their four captors shelter when the rain started to fall, and a thicket of bushes and trees that shielded them from unwanted eyes. 

Raenir pushed Estel from his horse to the ground, watching as he let out a meek whimper of pain. The floor was as hard as stone from the hot summer climate and littered with small but jagged rocks that grazed into his skin. He laughed and dropped the barely conscious form of Legolas beside him; it had been a tough journey, especially for the injured elf, the ground had become more uneven and wild so they had been jostled around terribly as their journey endured.  

He watched with relief as Raenir, Carinyc and Grudoc strode off to hunt and scout their new surroundings, leaving only the silent one to guard them and finally his hands stopped trembling. He was a strange character, silent and emotionless. Not once had he joined in the violence, nor their interrogation and Estel rarely witnessed him even acknowledging the others, but he felt sinister. Smoking on his pipe, his eyes glinted from the depths of his heavy dark hood. His heart thumped and pulled himself toward his friend, who lay in a dazed stupor staring into space. Both their hands and feet were now bound and Estel found himself trying to tend to Legolas' wounds again; the tunic he had soaked with the water from the cave was now barely even damp and would provide no relief. He sighed in dismay and glanced over at the remaining guard.

"Please, could you spare some water; he will surely perish if I do not clean his wounds." Estel pleaded.

He didn't answer at first, taking another puff of his pipe before lowering it from his mouth slowly. "I care not, they are done with the elf anyway." He spoke in a low voice. "He was only brought for their entertainment."

"You would have him die before you?" Estel's voice trembled with anger but was overcome with his fear.

"These men have no compassion. They do not care for your friend and they do not care for you; they have orders that they must follow."

"What orders?" He asked. "And why do you speak as if you are any different from them?" His words had sunk his heart.

"Because I am different to them; my orders are not the same as theirs. It was their task to find and capture you, not mine." He explained calmly, pushing back his hood to reveal his face. 

His complexion was similar to Raenir and Carinyc's, and much like his own; deeply tanned skin with dark hair. His eyes were as black as the night sky and were empty and unfeeling. He was older than the others and had flecks of silver in his locks, but whether they were a result of years gone by or the stresses that were evident in the lines of his face, was unclear. He did not seem as viscous as the others, yet there was an evil in his eyes that Estel immediately feared.

"Do you have a name or are you to remain the mysterious one?" Estel questioned with a short-lived confidence.

"Why do find my name so important?"

"I don't. But I know their names, why not yours?" His voice began to quieten once more.

"I have more sense." He muttered, and threw the young boy a water skin. 

Estel gratefully caught it and struggled to turn the barely conscious elf over onto his back. He jumped as the dark-haired stranger helped roll him over. Nodding in bewildered thanks, the youngster turned his attention to the bloodied back of Legolas, soaking his shirt with the water and dabbed the cuts and sore welts gently. 

"You did not have the heart to ask me what my task was, and I do not blame you." He whispered, and the younger human turned to look at him again.

"I did not think you would tell me, so I did not ask." Estel replied quietly.

"They were sent to capture you… I was sent to kill you." He said coolly, before returning to the overhang.

Estel stared at him, his eyes wide in horror. He squeezed the drenched top so hard, the bloody water gushed onto his shorts. His hands shook uncontrollably and his lip quivered, but no tears fell. Their eyes remained locked, until finally he couldn't bare it any longer and focussed his concentration on the battered elf once more. He felt Legolas flinch at his touch; eventually his senses returned enough for him to speak. The swelling in his face was going down, but the bruises and bloody gashes still a reminder of his torture. He sat up gingerly with Estel's help, still groggy but there was grave look of concern painted across his pale face.

"How are you?"Legolas asked, his voice croaky and anxious.

Estel wasn't listening. He was gazing at the lonely figure, it was unintentional but his words had removed any trace of hope he had left. He was going to die. Executed, just like his father. If he was here to kill him, then why were they doing this to Legolas?

"Estel?" His friend's voice startled him and he turned to face him. "How do you fare?"

Again, he did not answer. What could he say? An overwhelming sense of guilt fell upon him. They never wanted Legolas; Raenir had come for him. Those words had not registered until now. Estel found himself just staring at his bruised companion blankly, mouth slightly agape.

The elf looked at him with a heavy heart, and anger rose inside. There was such despair in his eyes; his face was gaunt and troubled. He could see Estel was looking in his direction, but not at him, as if he were so far away in his thoughts, he no longer realised he was there. Looking down at his bloodstained clothes, he grimaced.

"Estel?" He asked more sharply, touching his arm. "Please, speak to me. Did he touch you?" 

Snapping out of his swirling mind, he felt his hands shake again. "I am going die." Estel replied quietly.

Legolas gulped. "No, Estel. I will not let that be your fate." He murmured. "Did Carinyc tell you that?"

"You cannot make promises like that… no matter how much you want to." He growled bitterly. "There is no hope, we are already dead." His tone melted into a frightened whisper.

"Has Carinyc touched you?" Legolas asked quietly once more.

He looked at the fair elf for a moment; his blonde locks were now tangled mattes of blood and his piercing blue eyes were stained with anxiety. "No. We moved on shortly after you passed out… he has not had the chance." Estel mumbled; his voice ragged with dread. "At least if does, I will be dead soon after." 

Legolas closed his eyes, grimacing at his friend's despairing words. "I will not leave your side."

A cold laugh rang out beside them and they realised the party had returned. They looked up at Raenir's grim face, his thin lips curled into an unfriendly smile before off loading the slaughtered goat to Grudoc. He knelt down beside them and pulled at Estel's hair.

"I think it's your turn." He snarled.

Wide-eyed and trembling, Estel was dragged away from Legolas helplessly. They hooked his arms over a boulder so his head lay against the rough surface. He closed his eyes tightly, the scent of moss fusing in his nose. His whole body shook and tears ran down his cheeks. He felt a cool drop of rain patter on his neck, followed by another until it fell so hard he could no longer feel an individual one hit him anymore. A low rumble of thunder echoed around them.

Legolas watched as Raenir and Carinyc closed in, rain ran down his face, washing away the dried blood in dirty crimson streams that soaked into his muddy torn trousers. The first blow was struck as a flash of lightning lit up the land. He looked away, the agonizing cry ripping through the air chilling his blood. He listened to the soft weeping of the young human and the whistle of Raenir's whip before it hit his slender back again.

_Crack. _Estel winced as Carinyc took his belt off and thrashed it down through the torrential rain and tore into his skin. Another hit him on the back of his legs and cut into them. Blood seeped from the gashes and ran down his skin. Again, across his shoulder blades, the metal buckle slicing into him. He moaned quietly, desperately trying to remain strong, as Legolas had done. He couldn't. It hurt too much. Too humiliating. Why wouldn't they just kill him? He ground his head into the rock, the rough face scraping into his skin.

"Stop!" He managed to cry out. "Please." 

He felt them hesitate, and saw the knee of Raenir beside him. "What did you say?"

Estel looked at him, the sore welts on his back stung so much he felt sick. "Stop, please." He murmured desolately, no longer being able to concentrate.

Raenir laughed and Carinyc joined him. He trailed a finger along one of the painful wounds and dug his grubby fingernail into it. Estel squealed in agony and again they laughed. 

"Go on, little boy." Carinyc spat. "Beg us to stop. Plead with us. I want to hear you weep until the moon fades and the sun rises in the sky." He pulled out his hunting knife, holding it over his face, the spilt blood of the goat still dripping from the blade until the torrential washed it away. 

Dragging Estel's head backwards, so he looked helplessly into the murky sky, Carinyc bent over him and ran the blade lightly over his face. He trembled at his touch, the cold sharp tip scraping against his young skin. It trailed along his nose and over his soaking forehead. He closed his eyes tightly and to his horror, felt the cold metal of Carinyc's knife draw over his eyelids.

"Such long pretty lashes…" He said softly. "Framing those big grey eyes of yours…" 

Estel held his breath, his heart thumping so hard he thought his whole body shook in time with it.

"It would be such a shame if my hand slipped and they were lost." His voice was gentle, but threatening.

Legolas watched with alarm and horror as their tormentor suddenly flicked the blade and Estel screamed in agony. His eyes widened. A flash of lightning illuminated everything momentarily and he caught a glimpse of his friend's face; a scarlet stream of blood masked his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. His eyes widened with dread; surely they had not blinded him?

Carinyc unhooked Estel from the jagged rock and he collapsed to the ground, his elbows splashing into a puddle tiredly. Legolas watched them, hopeful that this was the end of their torture. A shaking hand wiped the blood from his eyes and he blinked tentatively.   

"I could not ruin your best feature." He whispered, before whipping him brutally across his head, leaving a deep gash spanning across his cheek from his ear to his nose. 

Carinyc retreated to the shelter of the overhang, laughing wickedly at his victim as he broke down. 

Raenir knelt beside Legolas and leant in. "Like I said, he can be very vicious and he has only just begun." He murmured. "Tomorrow may prove much worse for him." He said more loudly, so Estel could hear.

"Why must you do this to him? He's only a child." The elf growled.

"He is also heir to the throne of Gondor… looking at him, I think we are doing them a great service. He is a pathetic thing." He replied quietly.

"He is eleven years old! A child, and you are torturing him, how did you expect him to react?" Legolas hissed.

Raenir smiled, his eyes glinting coldly. "I cannot decide which is more fun; telling him of his lineage before he dies, or to preserve your secret and keep him guessing why we are doing this to him. That confusion in his eyes is so amusing…" 

He climbed to his feet and trudged away, water spraying from his scuffed leather boots as he gave Estel a final kick in the stomach. The young human slumped to the ground, drained and winded. His back screamed with pain, thick burning welts sprawled across his small body. Repeatedly, he tried to pull himself up and get away from them. He could feel the heat of their fire, the intense stare from the quiet shadowy figure, which had spoken to him earlier and hear their smug cackles. He couldn't move. He needed to throw up. He was so desperate to get away from them, but his legs were wreathed in agony, bleeding from the slashes on his thighs. His body no longer quivered with fear, but with shock and he began to sob quietly but uncontrollably, sinking his battered face into his hands.

Legolas glanced between their captors and Estel; they huddled under their makeshift shelter, now uninterested, except for the occasional glance from Carinyc. However, the hooded one sat apart from them, watching Estel through the gloom, face emotionless and still. The elf frowned, and clambered toward the weeping boy and stroked his wet hair tentatively. 

He recoiled at his touch, turning his head away anxiously. "N'uma." _[No.]_ He mumbled meekly.

"It is I, Estel." Legolas murmured softly.

"Don't touch me." His voice shook. "Please… it hurts."

"I know." 

He pulled Estel closer to him, hooking his arms over his young friend so that he lay tightly in his protective embrace. Legolas looked down at him; he looked so much smaller, more vulnerable and was shaking like a leaf. They sat in silence for what must have been over an hour, until the fire died down and all but the silent one were asleep for the night. Although Estel had not spoken, Legolas knew he was still awake. He could feel his breath against his skin, ragged and shallow, and the tears fall to his bruised stomach. The young human's body remained tense, shaking terribly, one of his slender arms wrapped around his friend's body tightly. 

"Don't cry." He whispered. "Just imagine you're back in Rivendell, thinking up another one of your schemes, running away from raging old conjurers and luminous elves. Teasing Rangers. Climbing trees. Shooting your archery teacher in the foot…"

For a moment, he thought he felt Estel snort with laughter.

"Soaking a handsome, elegant, gifted elf in revenge. Making him sneeze until he knocked himself out. Drugging him. Bungled escapes and flying crutches... Sitting on the balcony, watching the sun set slowly in the sky as the cool breeze ruffles through your hair. The chorus of the dawn wafting through the valley, the sweet song murmuring through the trees. The rippling of the river and the loud patter of the waterfall crashing against the rocks. Sitting under your bed covers, listening to exciting tales from your brothers. Walking in the woods with your father. The crackle of the roaring embers in the Hall of Fire. Curling up in one of the armchairs and falling asleep…" Legolas spoke softly, and felt Estel relax in his arms; exhaustion had finally overcome him, the soothing whisper of the elf calming him down enough to fall into an uncomfortable slumber.

The blonde elf sighed, and rested his pale chin on top of Estel's head as the clouds unwillingly parted and silvery swords of moonlight sliced through the darkness. The faraway hoot of an old owl rang through the oddly quiet land, and Legolas sat silently, eyes alert, listening to the soft breathing of the young human as the moon rose in the night sky.

Tbc…

Thanks to my wonderful reviewers…

Maranwe1 – You did review the last chapter, just after I'd posted ch3. I'm having the exact same problem today… Carinyc is a sick, evil man… eurgh, and yet I made him what he is, what does that make me? Oo-er!

TigerLily713 – I don't quite think 'a little blood and a lot of moaning' quite covers the last chapter, vice-versa perhaps…! we'll just have to see if there's any more elf torture…

Grumpy – Thank you! I should've got that Aragorn. Grr…sorry, I can't guarantee what'll happen between Estel and Carinyc I'm afraid, I'm evil, so who knows?

Alex mistress squirrel – I'm offended! That joke's not lame… it's just rubbish.

Leggylover03 – Sorry, is update too late? Every Saturday, I'm afraid… Will Elrond come and save the day? Err…

Arayelle Lyn – Charming… I wouldn't say I was bad, a little manic perhaps. Don't worry, I will finish it, and more cliffies will come… Hehe. 

Tithen Min – I'm torturing Aragorn not out revenge, but out of love… Woo, that makes no sense. Rain… sigh, I don't remember what that is. Maybe it's waiting for SoS. Hint. Cough. Hint. Damn you to the fiery pits of hell! I mean that in a nice way.

TrinityTheSheDevil – You can't double 'Eek' and then laugh! Don't worry, there's definitely more Estel angst… although ch5 is rather strange cos I wrote it at like 4am with some random Dutch thing on in the backround. I think I'll re-write it…

Arifel – Don't cry, Legolas is a man (you know what I mean) he can take it… the boy however… It doesn't bode well.

Coolio02 – I'm the queen of cliffies (and of flamingos) Mwahahahaha. 

Brethill,Estelle – Crazy fan, crazy lady… not sure why it's necessary to run around the room, but you have fun…


	5. Down by the Riverside

Okay, ff.net is giving me attitude… Despite requests of me posting more often, I'm really afraid I can't. This story is much harder to write than the last and considering I start college again soon, once a week is as fast as I can go. Sorry… I actually had to write this chapter twice because of the power cut in London, which caused me to lose most of my work (like the retard I am, I forgot to save it regularly) so it's a little err… you'll see. Honestly, the first bit of rain in almost two months and the bloody power goes with it. Sigh, at least I was at home and not on the Tube. Anyway, enough rambling…

Chapter Five: Down By The Riverside 

Legolas watched the dawn approach, the sun peeping over the mountains in the eastern sky. The clouds scattered like young deer grazing in old woodland, the stars twinkling defiantly in the west as it desperately clutched onto the last moments of the night. It grew steadily brighter, the stubborn rain clouds finally drifting away in the early hours after several more heavy showers had left his hair dripping limply and Estel shivering. It was much cooler than it had been for many months, and a strong breeze burst across the hills, the trees swaying violently, branches creaking and leaves rustling. He gazed down at Estel again, his face, paler than usual, swollen and bloody from a night of torment. Curled up in Legolas' arms, his brow furrowed as he clung onto his dreams, a welcome respite from the reality of their situation. He pushed away a dark lock of hair from his cheek to reveal the painful gash that still bled slightly, and grimaced. His back, red raw and smarting, the welts a deep crimson, dark scabs and open wounds still stubbornly bleeding scattered across his skin. 

The morning sun glowed gently, the summer drought had parched the soil and now the onset of autumn was upon them, it had come too swiftly for Legolas, and now seemed that even the weather was set against them. He glanced over at Grudoc, who had taken over as guard a few hours ago, warily, unwilling to provoke him. He seemed uninterested though, watching them blankly, his chubby little hand scratching his mud streaked face idly.

"You do not need to look away, elf." He said quietly. "My grievance with you has ceased, I am weary and simply wish to be rid of you both as soon as possible."

With that, Legolas nodded, a little puzzled, but the human's confession had raised his spirits a fraction, and yet it troubled him too. If the others shared his discontent and restlessness, then he and Estel were running out of time. Grudoc looked up into the brightening sky for a moment, and then turned away, waking his sleeping companions gruffly. The blonde elf tensed, his hold on Estel tightening instinctively.

Raenir climbed to his feet, brushing a few dead leaves off his old cloak and out of his greasy hair, before marching toward them, smiling coldly.

"Good sleep?" He laughed, kicking Estel hard in the back.

He woke with a start and cried out in agony. Legolas leapt to his feet, leaving the young human lying on the wet ground.

"Leave him alone, you have had your fun." He growled, standing in front Estel protectively.

He stared at the elf sternly and kicked him to the ground, pulling out his sword as Legolas rose to his feet once more.

"I've only just begun and you are asking for another round with my whip… but your stubborn pride bores me; I would love to break you, watch you beg for mercy, but I fear we do not have the time. We will have to content ourselves with making your precious Estel squeal." He murmured. "Now, on your feet, boy; there is a long day ahead of us." Raenir ordered.

* * *

He stumbled along, the rocky land ground into his weary feet. He could go no further, his lungs felt as if they were about to burst and the gashes on his legs had opened once more, leaving blood flowing mercilessly down them. They had been walking for hours; the late afternoon sun beat hazily down on their bare backs, a cool breeze gusting around them. Legolas walked gracefully beside him, the cuts and bruises on his face had faded into a couple of marks, and his back too, was healing well, the swelling had gone; the slashes now dark scabs. The elf remained silent, glancing occasionally in his direction but never for more than a second. 

Much to their relief, they had cut the bonds from both their feet and hands so they manoeuvre across the rough terrain. The young human steadied himself against a moss-covered ledge as they slowly clambered up a particularly gruelling hillside, the nameless figure and Grudoc leading their horses in front while Carinyc and Raenir pushed them along from behind. 

Struggling along tiredly in silence, passing through scant woodland, the long grass, so dry, it was almost straw, scratching Estel's legs until they were red and sore. The dark haired boy stumbled, falling to his knees, an old bramble gnawing at his skin.

"Get up!" Raenir growled.

He didn't respond; his limbs ached so much that he couldn't bring himself to rise to his weary feet again.

"Up!" He snarled once more, pulling him up by the hair roughly and struck him viciously with a dead branch. 

Estel hissed in pain, too exhausted to even cry out anymore. Legolas took hold of him and pushed him ahead, out of Raenir's reach, urging him forward gently. Resting his hands softly on his friend's back, carefully avoiding the open wounds, they trudged on in a more comfortable hush.

Another hour rumbled by and the lazy late summer sun sank steadily in the evening sky. Much to Estel's relief, they finally settled nearby the river. He sunk to the ground, his legs throbbing and lungs heaving tiredly as he rested his head on Legolas' shoulder. The song of the river echoed around them, the rapids crashing and sprawling, the water hissing wildly as it hurtled against the rocks. Estel had never seen the river so wide or flow so fiercely before and gazed at it in awe, before suddenly being ripped away from his thoughts.

Carinyc had hold of his arm and was attempting to pull him away, but Legolas clung desperately to his torso. Snapping out of the initial shock and realising what was about to happen, the young human kicked out at his torturer, catching him in the face. His grip immediately ceased and he stumbled back a couple of steps, blood gushing from his mouth. Carinyc's eyes narrowed and he staggered toward them once more, this time with Raenir, who unsheathed his sword and dug it into the elf's neck. Legolas drew his head back as far as he could, but the blade still pierced his skin until he felt his young friend push away his grip.

"I would not have you killed on my account, Legolas." He said grimly before Carinyc pulled him away.

The fair elf frowned, but could do nothing against the spiteful man's sword, which had him pinned helplessly on the ground. Grudoc took his place, pointing the blade at the elf's heart. Turning his head as far as he could, he saw Raenir stroll toward the pair and strike the raven-haired youth, and watched as his wiry frame fell to the floor a few feet away.

They knelt beside him and tied his hands to a protruding tree root, so that his arms stretched above his head, and Raenir pinned his legs down. Carinyc leant over Estel, the glint of his knife flashing in his cold blue eyes; he trailed his rough fingers from the boy's lips down to his bruised stomach and a wicked smile lit up his face.

"A fetching young thing…" He spoke softly. "Lean, but there is strength in that body. He would have made a very handsome man… he already bears the scars of a fighter." Running his finger up the dark scar from the warg attack many months ago. "How did this come about?"

"It is not your business." Estel spat, an angry defiance rippling through his body.

He raised an eyebrow. "You offend me, little boy. I have no patience for insolence." 

The broad man spat at him, the blood from his kick spattering across the boy's face. He slashed his knife into the younger human's arm spitefully.

"Will you refuse me again?" His voice faded into a mild murmur once more.

He gulped, his arm burning with pain. "…I was attacked by wargs."

Carinyc peered down at him. "Nasty things are wargs, especially when provoked… like me. I can get very nasty when people irritate me." He said calmly, holding the blade against Estel's chin. "We watched you for hours, you know. We saw you playing in the river with your prince and those elven twins. Who are they? Members of your foster family I presume?"

He nodded reluctantly.

"And that older elf was your foster father?"

Again, he nodded.

"So, who was that old fellow?" 

"He is my friend." Estel replied meekly.

The dark haired man laughed coldly. "Your friend? He is a little beyond your years to be a friend, is he not?"

He almost laughed. "You come to realise that age is irrelevant when you dwell in an elven realm and your brothers are over two millennia older than you."

His lips curled into an unfriendly smile. "Tell us of your family."

The young human looked at him for a moment. "Why would that interest you?"

Carinyc dug his knife into Estel's hip, the deep gash bled heavily, running down his side in a crimson stream. Wiping his finger across the wound, so it glistened with blood, he forced it into the child's mouth.

"Taste that?" He snarled. "That is the taste of petty insubordination; test me again and you will be coughing it up."

Estel gasped, the pain so intense that couldn't even cry out. His head slumped down to the ground, and he glanced over at Legolas, who gazed at him powerlessly with sad, anxious eyes that were threatening to well up. 

"You're right, it doesn't interest me… What about your real father? What was it like to watch him die?" Carinyc asked offhandedly, his cruel smile creeping across his tanned face as he watched Estel's lip wobble.

"How do you know about my father?" He asked quietly. "I remember nothing of that day."

"Now, now, don't upset me, I can see that you're lying, those pretty eyes of yours give it away." He ran the dagger across his body slightly above the waistband, just hard enough to scratch into his skin painfully.

Estel moaned quietly, tears rolling down his cheeks. "I-I was scared. There were arrows in his chest and his lifeless eyes stared at me for hours… and I stared back, willing them to shut. I was too afraid to cry for my parents in case they heard… but when they left, that's all I could do." 

Legolas closed his eyes sadly, listening as they laughed at his grief.

"And would you cry if your foster family were killed?"

"Of course."

"And what about your elf, Legolas? Would you cry as hard as you did for your father, for him?" Carinyc smirked, dragging the sharp blade up his scarred chest and along his jaw line, occasionally pushing down hard enough the slice into his skin.

He looked to his friend briefly, before nodding.

"I don't believe you." The callous figure hissed. "Shall we find out?" 

"No!" Estel cried loudly.

Carinyc turned back to the bleeding child and grinned. "Don't worry, little boy, I have no intention of killing either of you yet, there is far too much fun to be had with you both. Especially you." He whispered, and carved into his torso with swift slashes that bled heavily until his skin was no longer visible underneath the tide of claret.

He smirked and untied him, picking up his barely conscious form and dumped him in Legolas' arms, before retreating to the warmth of their campfire. The elf looked down at him with wide eyes; he barely seemed alive. Skin drained of colour and his grey eyes unfocussed, he didn't move. He cradled the young boy's head carefully, watching his chest rise as he breathed lightly. Legolas grimaced at the pain in his face and the trembling of his body, watching as his eyes regained their focus. Estel looked up at him, his eyes burning with pain and anguish.

"Kaima." _[Sleep] _The blond elf said gently, stroking his hair. 

"I-It hurts too m-much." He sobbed. "Why are they d-doing this?"

"Uuma dela." _[Don't worry.] _The elf murmured, touching his cheek gently. "We will soon be back in Rivendell."

He shook his head. "I j-just want t-the pain to g-go away."

"It will." Legolas replied softly, trying to wipe away some of the blood with some of the cloth he had ripped from his trousers. "The pain will go away soon… I promise." He whispered, gazing mournfully at the weak, pale form of his dear companion.

Tbc…            

Thank you, once again, for my reviews, they beat junk mail from porn sites… is it me, or did that not come out quite right?

Tithen Min – *Cough* Pits… Hell… ummm sorry. Whadya mean don't kill them? You're no fun! Meheheh. *Runs off to type some more wickedness* There must be some kind of medication for this utter randomness we suffer from. Big news (wait for it) Rain! So that's what it looks like!

Xsilicax – Ah, I'm actually really glad you told me that, 'cause I was never sure how you actually spelt it! Cheers. About the whole comfort rescue thing… err nevermind. Hey, would you look at that, it's umm… Mars, yeah. *Runs off to hide in some random tree with the other evil authors*

Lyn – I'm taking your comments on board, but as a fanfic writer I do get some artistic licence with the characters, and so in this little episode I've decided to give him an ickle scar. Besides, compared to some fics, this one keeps a little closer to Tolkien's writing (in the sense that I'm sure Aragorn & Co were not contestants on Middle Earth's Big Brother!)

Leggylover03 – Kill you? Me? Never! *Quickly hides axe behind back* Ooh yeah, this may possibly cause a little emotional scarring… like watching your favourite footballer who you've been in love with for almost a decade scoring for a rival team. Where was I? Oh, yes, the story thingy.

Alex mistress squirrel – This Mean? You haven't seen the director's cut! Oh, wait, there isn't one… it's a story, not a film, Alice, get a grip. Sorry, waaay to much sugar in the system!

TigerLily713 – I thought the story needed a little respite from the torment… oh bollocks, the cats licking his balls in front of me again. (Excuse the pun) Eeew, well that totally ruined the moment.  

Eph – sorry dude, this is the best I can manage. Tell you what, if you give me a nice big review at the end of this chapter, I'll e-mail you ch6 on Wednesday, how does that sound? (You'll need to give me your e-mail address though)

Midnightwolf3 – Aaw, thanks, that's really sweet! Fireworks… that gives me an idea. You'll have to wait and see about the mystery bloke, I promise he's not just mysterious because I couldn't think of a name. Honest!

NaughtyNat – What bit? I'm confused… I think it may just be you considering I think I'd remember if I'd had that twist! Ah, I've worn out my TTT too! I haven't brought myself to watch the making of Sean Astin's film, the film was so baffling, I'm reluctant to go near it!

RougeElf – Where are you from? If it's anywhere in Britain, then I'm pretty sure you can get it! It's the ice-cream version of the Dream bar.       


	6. Out of time

Hi everyone, this chapter's quite short I'm afraid but in the interests of science I had to cut it off where I did. You'll see why. Oh, and a plea to America: Please take bloody David 'Monkey Man' Blaine back! We don't want him! We couldn't give a flying fuck if he can survive 44 godforsaken days in a box above the River Thames with only water! In fact, we'd only be interested if he didn't survive. Call that magic?! Give me Paul Daniels (and the lovely Dabbie McGee) any day. Oh, and that whole riding on top of one the London Eye pods – ooooohhh I'm _so _impressed; it goes at like 3mph. How _did _he stay on? I say we cut the rope, let the box (with him in of course) fall into the river and take bets on where he ends up, now _that _would make good TV. Okay, enough Blaine baiting, I'll let you read what you logged on for. Chapter Six: Out of Time 

A too familiar scene greeted Legolas' eyes that morning. Dawn had crept upon the valley an hour before but the soothing warmth of the sun was confined behind the cage of gloomy rain clouds. Mist had settled around the land and so he could barely see the river below them, only the clatter of the rapids booming. The campfire crackled still, lighting up the faces of their captors in a warm hazy glow, their eyes glowing between flickered glances in their direction. His gaze reluctantly fell on Estel again; his face was whiter than the snow upon the mountainside and was stained with sinister streaks of dried blood. Trailing his eyes down the sleeping boy's body, he looked at the wounds Carinyc had inflicted the night before; much to his relief, all but the deep cut in his hip had turned out to be nothing more than scratches. But he had lost a lot of blood and his body was weak, his mind also had lost the will to fight, and that was Legolas' gravest concern. 

There was a gentle stirring in his arms and he realised that Estel had awoken. He looked up at the elf, but didn't acknowledge him, and sat up uncomfortably. Grunting with pain, he shifted to face the group of men, too afraid to take his eyes off them. Carinyc smiled at him and he felt his chest tighten. Legolas guided his chin to face him, until he finally returned the elf's gaze. His skin was like ice and sweat glistened on his pale brow.

"How do you fare?" He asked quietly.

His eyes rolled to the side. "I'm so hot." He managed to mumble.

He frowned. The dark-haired youth, who had once been so energetic and full of life, was now so weak he could barely hold his own head upright. He looked at him with hazy, unfocussed eyes, and pushed Legolas' hand away meekly.

"You are ill." He whispered anxiously.

The young human shrugged feebly. "We will soon be dead, so my health is hardly important."

"We are not dead yet." Legolas hissed. "Do not lose hope, little one."

Estel looked at him for a minute, before breaking into a sad smile. "For a split second I believed you, but one glance at our surroundings and my senses returned. What hope is there? I can see none."

"We still draw breath, and that is enough for me to hold onto."

He grimaced, clutching his side. "Then you cling on to false hope." He muttered. "I did not think it would end like this."

"This is not the end." The elf replied firmly.

"I can finally see why you have such distrust in Men." Estel murmured.

Legolas gazed at him in silence, watching as the young human steadied himself against a tree stump, his head bowed limply. His wrists were sore from the restraints that had been removed the day before, and his arms were scratched and streaked with dirt. It was a startling contrast with the form he took on his eleventh birthday; the dark mop of curls that had been plaited neatly that day were now a matted mess, sticky with blood and sweat, and it felt as many years had passed since he had seen the boisterous smile and heard his cheeky giggle and were replaced with blood and dejection. He had grown since then, but now his slim frame was hunched with fear and despair, a stature that did not suit his noble heritage. A raised voice distracted him from his thoughts, and he listened carefully to the sharp whispers of Raenir and the other men.

"…You have tormented them for long enough." He heard one growl, realising it was the normally silent man.

"I have not finished with the boy yet." Carinyc hissed.

"You have had a week to do what you will with him." 

"The suspense is what makes it the more enjoyable." 

Legolas' heart skipped a beat and glanced warily at his companion, who was so overcome with fever that it was impossible to tell whether he'd heard or not. 

"Your toil and games are compromising us. They should have been dead days ago."

"We are only having some fun." Raenir sneered.

"Fun? You realise that we are almost certainly being tracked by this foster family of his?" He lowered his voice, but Legolas could still make out their hushed voices.

"We have covered our trail." Grudoc snarled defensively.

"You did, until yesterday. Our footfalls will be clear to anyone who comes across them; the firstborn could follow us with ease. I will not let your appetite for inflicting pain on others jeopardize my orders. More importantly, I have no intention of getting captured. We have abducted two members of royalty, which, as you well know, carries the penalty of death. I have lingered too long, we must rid ourselves of them."

There was a long pause, and only the crackle of their fire made a sound.

"Very well, Donvan." Raenir sighed. 

Legolas flinched at the identity of the fourth kidnapper. 

Donvan. 

Legolas had had his suspicions that it was he. That name was notorious - a famed assassin of almost mythical proportions. Many believed him to be a fable, but those of some wit knew he was a real being. Tales of his murders in the lands of men had reached Mirkwood many years ago; assassinations of the highest orders. Killings, suspected to at his hands had reached as far north as the ancient city of Tharbad, where a prosperous fish merchant had been slain on the Old South Road. Soldiers, rich traders, even royalty had not escaped his sword. Some said he was a defected soldier of Gondor, others thought he hailed from further south. Where he was from was irrelevant to the blond elf. The fact that he would kill a child for a fee was all that mattered. On a couple of occasions the victim had been abducted, so their own circumstances did not shock him. Although it seemed to him that Estel was an easier target than others who had been executed on the spot and so their kidnap appeared a little puzzling.       

"Good, if we follow the river south for another mile, the rapids ease off." He explained grimly, snapping Legolas from his thoughts.

"So?" Grudoc raised an eyebrow, his chubby cheeks red and flustered.

"Their bodies will get caught on the rocks here, if we go downstream, it is unlikely their bodies will be found."

Legolas took a deep breath, there was little time, and Estel was in no state to make a run for it. He watched as they loaded up their horses and put out the fire, catching Carinyc's eye, the human smiled and drew his finger across his throat. Remaining straight-faced, he turned his attention to his sick friend; the wound in his hip still bled a little and looked infected. 

Grudoc stood over them sternly, hands on hips. "Get up." He ordered flatly.

The fair elf rose quickly and helped Estel up. He stood on his feet unsteadily, clinging onto Legolas for support and rested his head on the elf's chest. He wrapped his slender arms around his battered body, and felt him trembling.

"Move."

Following the flow of the river, they walked in a subdued silence, with even Carinyc holding his tongue from his usual taunts. There was a chill in the air and the four men marched along with their dark cloaks wrapped around them tightly. Legolas glanced at the water, the river still rumbled along quickly, but the rapids were diminishing as it widened. He held on tightly to Estel, his skin now burnt like fire and his steps had become more laboured as the minutes passed. They ground to a halt. 

Standing on the riverbank, they watched as all four stood a few feet away, Donvan, who stood a pace ahead, unsheathed his sword, the rasp of the cold steel sent a shiver down Estel's spine. The blond elf felt him snake an arm around his body, his hot clammy forehead burnt against his skin. He was shaking, tears falling from his grey eyes onto Legolas' pale stomach, his breaths becoming shallow and panicked.

"On your knees." Raenir ordered. 

They didn't move and Carinyc lashed out, pushing them to the ground. Estel fell weakly in the long grass, wincing as he landed on the lashes that littered his back, Legolas too, dropped to the ground, managing to avoid landing on top of his injured friend, instead settling on his knees, crouching over him. Sinking his head back into the grass, he screwed up his eyes as tightly as possible. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be. How had it come to this? He felt sick. He heart thumped so hard it hurt. His head swam so fast it made him dizzy. He was in his father's library, taking cover in the bookshelves from his brothers during a game of 'Hide and Seek'. He could almost hear their laughter.    

"I can't tell you how disappointed I am that it has come to this. We were having so much fun together." He heard the cold whisper of his tormentor. 

"W-why are you doing this to us?" He asked meekly. 

He was met with only laughter. Legolas shoved Carinyc away angrily and pulled the human up onto his knees. Turning to their assassin as he closed in, the blond elf shifted in front of the crying boy.

"He is a child!" He roared. "You are killing an innocent, defenceless little boy! Kill me, spare him, please." He pleaded, though he knew it was in vein. "You showed mercy by helping him treat my wounds, will you not show mercy now?"

Donvan paused, looking down at the pair, his eyes shifting between the two, until finally settling on the elf. "I am showing mercy. Your deaths will be swift and painless." He replied calmly. "I am saving your friend from further torment at the hands of these men."

Taking a deep breath, Legolas nodded. "Let me calm the boy down at least. I do not want him to suffer."

Estel stared up at the elf, eyes wide and bloodshot, screaming with fear, but Legolas avoided his gaze, pulling him into a tight embrace and kissed his forehead. "Peace, my friend. Do not be afraid."

Tbc…

Arwen-evenstar2 – Aah, always nice to be appreciated by Aragorn's wifey, thank you! I hope this chapter hasn't disappointed.

TigerLily713 – I am NOT brutal! Well… *cough* so I am, damn straight! The world needs some brutality, better that I take it out on some fictional (shh) character than the cat, which of course I would never do. Sorry, it's nervous energy, the football kicks of in half an hour!

Midnightwolf3 – Well, I'm an utter wuss when it comes to pain; a papercut can almost bring me to tears! Count yourself lucky. Anyway, you're lucky you're not a cat… (curiosity geddit?) Wow, that was bad Alice….

Grumpy – I don't think accidentally falling on a sword is an appropriate death for them, could be funny though! Oh, and where's the fun in giving them a break? Mwaha- you know how it goes…

Xsilicax – Don't scream! Deep breaths… calm, feel the tranquillity overcome you. Feel better? Look, I haven't hurt him any more! Go find some hope and comfort elsewhere, love, there ain't none here right now. Elrond's havin' a gander elsewhere I'm afraid.

Greenarrow – Aaaaaw, that's really sweet! I hope you're not still stunned, it could cause problems in life… ;-)

Vana E – Wow, what am I supposed to say to that review?! It makes my story look rather feeble! I can safely say that there will be no slash or undertones (unless you count Carinyc's thing for Estel, but that's not really slash, it's just wrong) I like Muse#4 best, he's my kinda guy! Shh… there may be a little more elf torture… but keep that quiet, my sister may hit me repeatedly with the cat if I'm mean to Legless… I'm still stunned by your review, Aargh! I've caught it from Greenarrow!

Alex mistress squirrel – Sorry, I didn't mean to cause shell shock, or any form of stunning! Maybe I should've put some kind of sign up…

Leggylover03 – Dude, don't sit on the edge of your seat, it's uncomfortable and you'll get a ridge on your arse! I think it's pretty safe to say that Elrond will be rather… annoyed by these events. Mmm… angry Hugo Weaving *gets all hot under the collar* 

Randomramblings – Err… possible understatement of the year! I like your name by the way…

Arifel – Do something to him? If by that you mean ki- err… look at that – an umm… cloud.

Tithen Min – Oi! Share the medication! It's now raining, but the sun's shining at the same time and its nice and warm! Aaw, I'll have to find a way to make Legless feel included… Mwahahahaha! Damn, your review got me back into the habit of saying that!


	7. A Grave Separation

Eeek! *Avoids rotten vegetables being hurled in this direction* I am soo sorry! I can't even give you a proper excuse, I just ummm… forgot. Terrible, I know, but it's been a hectic week. It's here now though, luckily I'd already written it. I feel bad, sorry, it struck me at about 10pm last night and I didn't have time to proofread it or write review replies so I left it until this morning. Apologies. Anyway, I'll give you an update ('cause I know you want it) from events in the BlaineBother Box © I made that up myself, good innit?! The art of Blaine baiting has become the new British pastime; egg throwing, smashing golf balls from Tower Bridge, pointing laser pens at him so he thinks there's a sniper about to shoot him (that was my favourite) hurling abuse and playing drums to keep him awake at night are all part of this… aaw you almost feel sorry for him… *cough* Surprisingly enough, I haven't joined in yet. Poor gormless, non-personality, hairy nutter of an American… he should've done it in the States, we're a logical bunch, the British and we see no logic in this stunt, so instead we torment him, cruel but satisfying. Hehe…   

****

**Chapter Seven: A Grave Separation**

The wind whispered around them, the gloomy grey clouds rumbling in around the land. The trees and hills had gone strangely silent; the twittering of the birds and chirp of the crickets in the grass had died down, as if all were watching this grisly execution. Legolas watched Donvan carefully, his dark eyes impassive as he raised his sword, glancing quickly to his right and left, he noticed the others had backed away a little. His grip tightened around his sobbing companion, one arm wrapped around his slim torso and the other hand holding firmly onto his arm, his foot firmly pressed into the ground as he knelt. He could feel Estel's heart beating in his chest. Donvan took a step toward them, the blade shining threateningly in the daylight. 

Another step.

Do something.

Sword raised. 

Move.

Deep breath.

Move.

Now.

Legolas clung onto the youth and leapt into the river with a massive splash. Plunging to the bottom, he felt Estel struggling in his grips and so let go of his body, but held onto his wrist with all his might as the current drove them along fiercely. Donvan watched them resurface further downstream, his bow poised. He aimed and released, the arrow whistling through the air. Estel cried out, it missed him by only an inch and more followed. He slipped under the viscous torrent, the icy water felt like a hundred knives stabbing at his chest. The elf pulled him back up coughing and spluttering, gasping for air.

"Kick!" Legolas cried. "You must swim with the current or you will keep going under!"

"I can't! It is t-too cold!" Estel wheezed.

He looked at the labouring child, his legs flailing weakly, straining to stay afloat. He would have struggled even if he were fully fit, but the culmination of his torture had left him feverish and frail, powerless against the wild waters. It was a rash act, but what else could he have done? If Estel were well, and they were armed, together they could have taken them on, although Donvan was not a force to contend with alone. The river may well prove to be their end, but at least they had tried to escape. The last thing he wanted was to venture further south; he did not know the land and did not want to. But at least Estel was out of their grasp. For now at least.

Estel desperately tried to do as his friend instructed, but the cold rushed through his veins, making his whole body ache like never before. He willed himself to move but his legs wouldn't respond. The only warmth he felt was Legolas' grip on his wrist. They were dragged along relentlessly until the spot where they had jumped was no longer visible. The current was so swift that trying to swim to the bank was fruitless, they could only hope it would slow down before all the energy they possessed was spent. 

He continued to be heaved around, an undercurrent emerging so that his legs were tugged from below. No longer did he have the strength to at least try and swim with the flow. Estel felt his legs give up and his body pulled from below. Tossing and twisting, Legolas' grip was wrenched away and he was dragged below the surface. Helplessly, he grappled for the elf's arm but couldn't reach it. Kicking off a rock, he burst to the surface once more, gasping and spitting out the river water. His eyes burned as he looked around for his companion and realised that he was at least thirty feet further down stream. 

"Legolas!" He cried as another torrent crashed over his face.

* * *

The day closed in, the dark hours of the night creeping from over the far away mountains in the east, but still the orange glow of the sunset lingered across the vast land. Immense rain clouds were assembling slowly in the evening sky, devouring the last glimpses of day and a wicked breeze grumbled along the waterway, ruffling through the tall reeds. A single raindrop fell from the sky and struck him on his cheek, but he didn't react. Lying on his front in the mud, the river, now far calmer, flowed at his feet, the water splashing across his legs. Blood seeped from his temple, the result of an encounter with some unexpected rapids, rocks that had torn his skin, battering his already fragile body. He had not seen the last boulder, it lay hidden underneath the fizzing white waters and his head had cracked against it helplessly. That was enough to lose his battle with consciousness, but he was happy to lose that fight. The agony of the biting cold attacking his limbs and freezing his veins had been arduous on his young body and falling into unconsciousness had been a blessing.

The heavens opened, and a wash of icy rain pelted down on his skin painfully. His already soaked hair clung to his face and eyes in a knotted mess, small cuts and darkening bruises littered over his whole body and the nasty gash he had sustained the night before had reopened, leaving puddles of red-tinted water at his side. He stirred a little and coughed up some water. Rubbing his eyes, he rolled onto his side tentatively. He shivered. Glancing around his surroundings warily, he climbed to his feet and wiped off some of the mud that clung to his skin.

"Legolas?" He called out quietly.

There was no reply. The dark, menacing forms of withered old trees hung over the river, silent and still. He rubbed his head, the painful throbbing making his mind swim uncomfortably. A hoot of an owl made him jump and he spun around quickly to face the looming trees, his heart thumping fiercely in his chest. Pulling himself onto the shore, the rain beating against his smarting back, he strained to see in the growing gloom.

"Legolas?" Estel cried a little louder.

Again, there was no response, so he picked up a rock and carved an 'E' roughly into the bark of an old tree in case the elf passed this way. He limped along the riverside, shaking from the cold, his toes numb but still his head burned with fever. Feeling sick and dizzy, he steadied himself against a tree tiredly. Blood dribbled down his hip sluggishly and his whole side ached dully. 

"Where are you?" He moaned softly, pushing his dark matted locks behind his ears.

His eyes searched the thick woodland frantically, but there was no light; the moon obscured by the thick clouds. A gust of wind flurried around the unfamiliar land, making him colder still. His lip quivered and a reluctant tear rolled down his bloodied cheek but he pushed himself on. A slight rustle far away startled him, his heart leaping into his throat. His vision blurred momentarily and he rubbed his eyes desperately, sinking to the ground under the relative shelter of a willow tree. Estel pulled his legs in close to his body and tried to massage some feeling back into them. Even though the bleak shadows of night had descended on the hills and the silvery glow of the moon couldn't pierce the dense clouds, the sinister bruises and streaks of blood running down his shins were plain to see. Slumping his head back against the trunk, chilly drops of rain dripped limply from his tangled locks onto his tired shoulders, he sighed softly. He was so exhausted but he didn't dare close his eyes. 

It must have been several hours at least since he'd seen his elven friend and he longed to see his face once more. No longer did he have to look at Carinyc's cruel face, but those eyes burned into his memory and would not leave. He grimaced; every part of his body screamed with pain and his stomach growled hungrily as it had done for days. He ignored both; what else could he do? He had to keep moving and find Legolas. 

Pulling himself to his throbbing feet again, he stumbled on, unsure whether he should go up or downstream and eventually elected to follow the flow of the river; at least then he would be trying to get further away from Raenir and the others. 

"Legolas! Manke naa lle?"_[Where are you?] _He shouted in the elf's native tongue.

He flinched as a loud growl of thunder boomed around him. A crack of a twig nearby alarmed him and he hid behind a tree.

"Legolas?" He whispered, knowing his elven ears would hear if it were he.

There was no reply, but he could hear heavy footfalls approaching. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down; it wasn't Legolas, he would never make that much noise. No, it was definitely men, three at least. Their voices echoed through the trees. His heart thumped and his mouth went dry. He couldn't work out whether they were walking along the bank or through the forest. Stay or run? Their voices grew louder; they had similar accents to Raenir and his company, but how it could they have got here so soon? Make a decision. His knees quaked and head spun. They're in the forest. Run or they'll catch you, he ordered himself.

Taking a deep breath, he scaled around the tree trunk until he faced the tree and began to scamper away.

"Hey! Who goes there?" He heard a gruff voice cry.

Estel stopped in his tracks and turned to see four men standing about ten feet away, their torch burning brightly in the gloom, a warm glow lighting up their stern faces. His breath caught in his throat and he backed away. 

"Who are you, boy?" Another asked, stepping forward, his dark eyes glinting in the firelight.

The young boy trembled, his head swimming and throbbing making him a little giddy. 

He stumbled backwards. "Where are you, Legolas?" Estel shouted, not really acknowledging the men. 

"You're hurt." One said softly, approaching the terrified child. "Did you fall in the river?"

Estel backed away further, before scurrying into the forest. He stumbled over the uneven ground, his lungs heaving as he clambered over a rock. He could hear them following. He had to get away. They couldn't catch him. He couldn't go through it again. Move. He pushed past another tree; it was so dark he couldn't see more than two feet ahead. He glanced behind; the glow of their torch was visible through the dense brush, the shadows of the hooded figures were not far behind. His foot splashed into a small stream, taking him by surprise, but still he ran. He had no choice. The trees began to thin out and he found himself dashing across an open plain, a mist settling over the land, making it even harder to see where he was going. He didn't care where he ended up, as long as it wasn't in their grasp. His legs pounded against the grass, aching terribly, blood streaming down them.

But he began to slow, any last remnant of energy he had was gone and his legs began to fail under him. He tripped and went crashing to his knees. He groaned as, what felt like a hundred daggers slashing at his body, overcame him, leaving him lying vulnerably in the wet grass. Estel heard them grind to halt beside him, and felt a powerful hand turn him onto his back.

He squinted up at them, his chest felt like it would burst but he could run no more. He shook terribly, his temple pounding as they knelt over him, faces grim and unfriendly.

Tbc…

LOTRFaith – Donvan is a man of many layers, we'll find out more about him in the latter chapters. If I ever finish them, I know what happens though, so it's okay if I don't post it all… Mwahahahahaha

ErabuHikari – I'm going as fast as I can! Jeez… I can't believe I just said jeez – damn these bloody American sitcoms that swamp digital TV! Feh.

Alex mistress squirrel – I guess it is suspenseful, sorry, I have inane lust of cliffhangers and this story is riddled with them. 

TigerLily713 – I'm not anti-American! *cough* Shh – you can't be anti-US in these times unless you're a terrorist and I can't be arsed to terrorise people. Blaine is more than a poser; he's an idiot. And he's swamping all the TV channels with his bloody adverts. Stupid bloody monkey boy.

Wolfete – Sorry dude, welcome to the fan fic world, I'm Alice and I'll be your host for the next 13 or so more chapters. I absolved myself from any emotional, physical or psychological damage caused by my cliffies, but cos you're new, I apologise. 

Lei Dumbledore – Oi! I'll have no Harry Potter (aka rip off of LOTR) fan telling me I'm evil! Feh to you! Then again, you like my story so I'll be nice… sorry way too much tea this morning…

Eph – Thanks, I'd send you ch8 early, but I dunno if it'll be done in time 'cause I start college next week. We'll have to wait and see, but I will send you one chapter (maybe the final one) early before the end!

Xsilicax – Woo! Emotional issues! I want a Tardis, if you give it to me, then I will stop with the cliffies. Non-magician boy can't touch me, he's gone mad and keeps chanting 'Onion' so I don't really see him as a threat… unless he hallucinates that I'm an onion and tries to eat me.

Jadelyn Rashwe – Hehe… the more everyone says they hate cliffies, the more I'll do them. I'm British, we're evil like that… Go go go? Ooh, I feel like I'm in a Grand Prix… where's Schumacher? Let me crash into him.

Grumpy - *cough* well aren't you clever? Bloody guessing the next bloody bit of my bloody story… grr. ;-) Please take Blaine back, I don't think he like us anymore. He keeps waving to the crowds and they just throw stuff at him, take him for his own safety!

Tithen Min – Bah. I guess I get no medication then… oh well, I like being mad. Early Saturday/early Sunday, what's the difference eh? It's still warm and sunny down here… where's SoS btw?! If you've updated then ignore that little rant…

TrinityTheSheDevil – Err… what window? I found an excuse – I posted late because an over-zealous reader throttled me. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. I'm not mean, I light up your meaningless little lives (I mean that in a nice way) 


	8. New faces

See, I posted a few hours earlier than usual (and I got up at 8:30am on a Saturday morning to do it) be aware that I did proofread it at this time as well so it may be a little shit, so for that, I apologise. I'm grumpy this morning as my brother is currently boarding a plane to New York (I'm annoyed because he assured me he wouldn't be able to smuggle a Perspex box and its inhabitant through customs when I so think he could have considering Monkey boy's a US citizen) and I'm going off to, wait for it, buy some fucking schoolbooks. The excitement of it all. Sigh. I'll have to cling to the ER episode reviews to stop myself standing in front of a train. I'm such a drama queen…

**Chapter Eight: New Faces**

The rain cascaded down on them, and the dark haired youth, bleeding and defeated, lay winded and afraid on the soaking overgrown grass. His lungs heaved tiredly and head thumped groggily. The man who had called out to him earlier recoiled his hand and peered down at the young boy curiously, taking deep breaths to recover his composure after the chase. Sinking to one knee to take a closer look as the mist gathered over the wilder land, he frowned.

"Triebar, bring the torch nearer, I cannot see a thing." He muttered irritably.

Another figure stood over him, wielding the burning embers of their torch and illuminated the trembling form as he lay on the wet turf.

"Who are you, boy?" He asked sternly.

Estel gaped at him, eyes impossibly wide and mouth ajar. He didn't answer, his breaths becoming more ragged as he shuffled backward.

"No need to be afraid, lad." The hooded man's tone softened. "How did you get those injuries?"

A gust of wind swirled around them and Estel shivered before looking away, trying to will himself away from these men and these unfamiliar lands. 

"Did you fall in the river?" 

The young human again said nothing. He wanted to run. He couldn't. He was too tired. 

Triebar knelt down beside him. "Roi, he could not have got those cuts from a fall in the river." He murmured. "And he is clearly scared of something, perhaps he is a runaway from Tharbad?"

He nodded. "Whom are you running from?"

Estel wiped away some rainwater from his face and blinked up at them. "P-please, don't hurt me." He mumbled meekly.

"No one will hurt you boy, we want to help you." Roi replied gently, pulling down his hood to reveal his shaggy blonde hair and weathered face. "I'll take him back to my house, maybe I can get some sense out of him then. The poor thing looks like he's been beaten black and blue." He explained grimly. "I think we should keep this quiet until we know more about him."

Pulling the young boy to his feet, they wrapped Roi's warm cloak around him. He flinched at their touch, struggling from their grasp with pure adrenaline until he broke free. Estel ran as fast as he possibly could, pushing the dark cloak from his shoulders as he reached the edges of the forest. His foot scraped at the brush before feeling a sudden grasp on his arm. Spinning around, he saw Roi clutching onto him tightly and the others jogging up behind. He tussled weakly in the tall man's arms, but it was no use.

"We are not going to harm you." He said calmly. "You're sick and wounded, let us help you."

Estel gazed at them, his heart pounding and his hands shaking. "Legolas!" He cried. "Tua amin! Manke naa lle?" _[Help me! Where are you?]_  "N'uma, kela." _[No, go away.] _He muttered, closing his eyes at his touch."Legolas!"__

Roi stiffened, and looked down at him with an eyebrow raised. "How extraordinary." He remarked. "A human that speaks the tongue of the firstborn? There are few who can in these parts." He turned to Triebar and the others. "I think perhaps that this one is not a lost runaway from the city."

He ceased his grip and placed the discarded cape around the shivering boy once more. They began to walk back through the forest, and Estel trekked on wearily, his vision increasingly hazy. He had no energy to hike any further and his head reeled blearily. Roi followed closely behind, wiping his dripping blond hair from his eyes, watching his legs bleed sluggishly; he had tried to carry him, but Estel had desperately resisted his touch. Estel stumbled forward, his energy finally sapped. He leapt forward and caught the young boy in his arms. Glancing down, he could feel the boy was burning with fever.

"Graemer," He called, and a younger figure jogged to his side. "Run on ahead; tell my wife what has happened and to ready a bed for him."

* * *

The rain was still lashing down and the wind whistled around the hilltop as he approached his home on the edge of a tiny village, the soft glow in the windows, warm and inviting. He looked down at the still unconscious child, and struggled to the door. It swung open and his wife ushered him in quickly, her red hair clasped in a tight bun.

"The poor mite, he looks half frozen." She said softly.

He took him upstairs to a small bedroom, and laid him gently in the soft bed, the sheets already warmed for him. Estel's head slumped into the pillow; his skin drained and glistening with a sickly sweat. Roi shook his head soberly upon realising the amount of injury inflicted upon the child, and watched as his wife cleaned the wounds tenderly.

"He was afraid, Shana. It was only when he could run no more did he finally succumb and still he wouldn't let us touch him." He wiped a strand of wet hair from his face. "I don't think he's from these parts; the child spoke Elvish as if it were his own tongue."  

"Where he's from and what language he speaks does not concern me right now; he's very ill, Roi. Go and change out of those wet things, I don't want two patients tonight!" She smiled. "Get some of Kaimin's clothes too."

Roi turned reluctantly, his hazel eyes darkening. She watched him trudge away and squeezed the excess water out of her sponge before she began to wipe away the dirty streaks of mud and clean his numerous wounds. He remained unconscious but still his body flinched at her touch, his forehead smouldered with fever but the rest of his body was like ice. 

"Poor lamb, you have been through the wars, haven't you?" Shana murmured.

The rain continued to crash against the windows, the tiny village of fewer than ten houses illuminated occasionally by a brash flash of lightning. It was a gloomy night; the howling wind rushing through the isolated hills. The rickety old fence creaked under the strain and the gate crashed loudly against it. They left his side after a couple of hours, letting him sleep as his fever continued to maul him. She had treated all his wounds, killing the infections and dressing the gashes on his torso and head. 

Settling in his humble living room, Roi stayed up as the rest of his family slept in case Estel awoke. He sat in silence, sharpening his fishing knives and mending some tears in his nets, his rough hands working meticulously in the candlelight.    

Estel lay still in his bed, the warm covers pulled over his body. It was a troubled sleep but his body was so tired he did not wake, instead his face contorted as the bad memories and harrowing dreams washed over him. Carinyc was staring down at him, his wicked smirk lighting up his cruel face, his grubby hands touching and grappling at his body. He couldn't move. Someone was holding him down. Carinyc was closing in, so close that he could see the depraved lust in his ice blue eyes. He stirred uncomfortably, no longer could his exhaustion suppress his panic.

"Tampa!" _[Stop] _The youth moaned. "Stay away from me! No!"

Roi paused. He could hear the muffled cries and quickly leapt to his feet, making his way quickly up the bare wooden stairs, his shoes clinking against the floor as he jogged toward the small bedroom. He stopped at the door, listening as Estel called out again, and opened the door gently. He was still asleep, but now he was tossing and turning, his arms flailing wildly and his legs kicking out. The blond man leant over him, watching with concern as he struggled, the fear in the young boy's face heart wrenching. Tentatively, he reached down and touched his arm gently.

Estel awoke with a start, sitting up quickly, staring at Roi anxiously with wide eyes than burned wildly with fear and confusion. He had jumped at the boy's sudden movement, but now he managed a gentle smile.

"Calm down, lad, you don't want to aggravate your injuries." Roi said softly, reaching out to comfort him. "How are you feeling?"

He gaped at the unfamiliar figure, his breathing panicked. Shirking his touch, Estel backed away until he knelt on the pillow at the head of his bed.

"It's alright, I won't hurt you. I helped you at the river, remember?"

The dark haired youth stumbled off the bed and retreated to the opposite side of the room to Roi, the blue shirt he now wore was too big, the sleeves hanging over his hands loosely.

He leant against the wall even though it made his back sting, his eyes stormy with distrust. "You chased me and made me come with you." He growled warily.

Roi frowned. "You were injured, we wanted to help you." He replied calmly. "You fled, so we followed because we knew you wouldn't have lasted long alone. Would my wife have treated your wounds if we intended to harm you?"

Estel rubbed his aching head, confused, worried tears rolling down his cheeks. "Where am I?" He murmured between sobs, not really asking anyone.

"A small fishing village about two miles north of the city of Tharbad."

Tharbad. That name was only vaguely familiar but it made his heart sink further. He was even further from home than he had feared. 

"Manke naa lle, Legolas?" _[Where are you?] _He muttered, eyeing the blond man warily.

"You don't meet many who can speak the language of the firstborn in these parts… which confirms to me that you are not from around here. Where do you hail from? Gondor? Your dark features make me think that, but if you were swept to these shores by the Loudwater as I'm almost certain you were, then it makes no sense as that realm is further south." He rationalized steadily, trying not to startle the frightened youth any further. "If you were from Gondor, then you would most likely know Tharbad, so I doubt you are from there. If you were from Rohan, then you would almost definitely know the city. So, you must be from the north and quite some way north as well."

Roi paused and watched the small form stiffen in the corner; the emotion that had blazed so vividly in his eyes before had now been shut off. He was still shaking, but his face was unreadable. 

"My name is Roiderick, but you may call me Roi. My wife Shana and my children, Kaimin and Yolanda are asleep. What's your name?"

He didn't speak, slumping to the ground, his legs pulled tightly to his bruised body. The horses in their stable neighed anxiously, making him jump. 

The blond human sighed. "So you're a boy with no name and no home?"

"I have both, but neither is important. I give thanks for treating my injuries but I must leave." Estel spoke a little louder.

"You are not well enough lad. You are sick, injured and I think you are lost too, what kind of person would I be if I let you go?" He reasoned.

His lip trembled and he sank his head into his clammy hands. "A saviour." The ebony haired child mumbled inaudibly.

"Whom are you running from?"

His head shot up, and glancing at Roi nervously. "Who said I was running from anything?" He hissed loudly, before rising to his feet.          

As the older human stood and began to reply, the door swung open. Estel glanced over to see who it was before quickly returning his wary gaze back to Roi, tears still stubbornly rolling down his face. Shana stepped inside, holding a little girl with the same vivid red hair, about four years of age, on her hip. She stared at him curiously, before breaking into a reassuring smile.

"I was hoping you would sleep the whole night and recover your strength, little one." Shana said soothingly. "There's no need to be so frightened, we won't bite!"

Estel looked at her, unsure of what to do. His instinct was to run; no matter how well intentioned these people were, he had to find Legolas and try and get back to Rivendell. He didn't know how honourable Roiderick and his family were, nor did he intend to stay around long enough to find out. 

"If you are in trouble, son, then we will help you, you can trust us." He spoke earnestly, his eyes glinting.

"I dare not trust a soul in these lands, I would be a fool if I did. I trust myself and only myself." Estel replied, neglecting mention Legolas or his family intentionally. 

Shana pursed her lips and sat Yolanda down on his bed. "That is a very bleak outlook on people for such a young 'un." 

"I've had a bleak few days." He almost laughed at his own words.

She glanced warily at her husband. "I'm sorry to hear that, dear, but perhaps we should discuss all this in the morning. You need your rest; your fever will not break until that weary little body of yours gets some sleep. I'll have breakfast ready for you when you wake." She smiled and ushered the others out. "Talk when you're ready."

Estel closed his eyes and sunk to the floor again, his heart heavy. Running his hands through his newly brushed hair, he rested his pounding head against his knees and sighed. There he sat for an hour, listening as the horses continued to cry. He was so tired but he had to get out. He had to find Legolas. Glancing around the sparsely furnished room, he settled upon the small window and made his way to it. 

Forcing the stiff window open as quietly as he could, the rain bellowed in, spraying his face and the wind sent a chill down his spine. It fell so hard that he could barely make out the dark forms of the forest in the distance. Estel peered out; the lonely village was dark; asleep for the night. It was a long way down, but the uneven brickwork made it easy to scale. He landed on the soft ground with a slight splash, the mud staining his bandages. Pain seared through his body and he fell to his knees. Taking a deep breath to recover his composure, he climbed to his feet once more. He turned from the house and froze.

Looking down the long brutal blade of a knife, he heard a voice growl.

"Now where do you think you're going?"

Tbc…

Sorry, I know it's another cliffy, but you must understand that 1) I need to cut off at certain points 2) I'm a bitch. I assure you that the next chapter hasn't got one (I think)

Eph – Yup, I'm evil. Legless is sitting on a beach drinking rum (Sorry, couldn't resist) Welcome to the Caribbean!

Greenarrow – Dude, you need prozac or valium… or something. You're way too emotional, although admittedly I did cry for an hour after Neighbours yesterday… Oh, and if you need a helping hand with your fic, feel free to e-mail me. :)

TigerLily713 – I'm cold and hungry too. Why's the cat had his breakfast and I haven't? Bah. Where's my tea?! Bastards, all of 'em! I wish I could explain that outburst but I really can't. Vengeance!

Alex mistress squirrel – Yes, bring on the suspense, squirrel girl! Oh, wait, you're talking to me… Oh my god, this has taken me an hour and a half to do. Bloody hell, I'm slow.

Singing Wolf – Actually, I am considering making this a whole kinda series, moving onto when he 17+ I've got a few ideas (some torture some not) It depends what everyone thinks nearer the end.

Leggylover03 – Look, I've lost everyone. I'm not very organised, they were there one minute and gone the next. It wasn't me Guv, honest! I'll make it apparent where everyone is when I'm ready.

Lei Dumbledore – I was kidding too! I'm still stuck in Moria in the books so feel free to throw something at me. I never thought I could write lotr fic, but I had a whiz and here we are. Oh, are you sure you'd want to live here? Bush country or Bush's puppy country. Hmm… I think I'd rather live in France with Johnny Depp!

Grumpy – Mahahahaha, *still has the element of surprise* I'm so tired, I can't even laugh manically anymore. Have I answered your nice/nasty men question?

Jadelyn Rashwe – Are you alright? You sound kinda manic, dude. I'll take that 'DON'T DO THEM!' as a 'More cliffies please, we all love them!' Duly noted, expected more in the future…

Vana E – Your reviews are still putting my story to shame! Aaw, hope you feel better soon. I hope #2 hasn't beaten #4 to death with a lamp, and that #3's fortune changes! Maybe you should consider counselling for them…

M J Rosemary – Is Legless okay? Hmm… I haven't decided. Mwahahahahaha, no, I have really. This chapter hasn't really put you out of your misery has it? Apologies.

Tithen Min – Grr… I've done that before! I hope you know I'm clinging onto that story to stop myself from suicide (FEEL THE PRESSURE!) and if I die, this story doesn't end… I'm evil and I'm taking you down with me, savvy? 


	9. Questions and Answers

Sorry! Its a few hours late I know… I saw the RotK trailer today! *Squeal* Damn I'm excited now. I also went to the LotR exhibition, which was wonderful, although I did have another close encounter of the cardboard kind… damn that bloody staff! Gandalf, you're going to hell, and cardboard cut outs don't last long there, savvy? And now I have been witness to a Cave Troll's penis…ahem…what?! You couldn't help but look man, he wasn't very well endowed for someone so big, but I guess he doesn't get to use it much. Oh my god. Am I discussing a Cave Troll's sex life? Hmm… that's a tad worrying. Oh, has anyone seen this Derren Brown (the slightly less hairy English version of monkey boy Blaine) he's going to play Russian roulette live on TV. Morbidly fascinating you might say, but wait for it… his advert says: 'Who says magic is dead?' Erm… are we playing magical Russian roulette with a fucking wand instead of a gun. Yup, magic is dead. There is an illusionist sitting in a box waving at unimpressed crowds as they throw food at him, and a magician playing with a gun, woo, feel the sorcery! Tell you what, lets get Michael Jackson in on the act, maybe he can sit on a balcony for 44 fucking days with only one baby to throw off it. I'm a little emotional here, any Johnny Depp worshipper who's seen Once upon a time in Mexico will know why… he says 'savvy' though! Brilliant! And Enrique with a gun, too funny!

Chapter Nine: Questions and Answers 

Estel looked down the cold steel blade, his heart pounding so hard he thought his ribs might crack. Stumbling backward a little, until his body was pressed against the wall, the figure's face finally came into view. He relaxed a little; it wasn't Raenir or the others, however, his face was a little familiar, but where he recognised him from he didn't know. He recognised little anymore. But although he was relieved it was not they; there was still a knife drawn and it was uncomfortably close. Dark, untrusting eyes glared down at him.

He sighed quietly, and slumped to the ground. It was hopeless. He no longer cared if he lived or died. Life without his family and his home was more wretched than death. Estel sat in the mud silently, head bowed, staring at his sore bloodied wrists blankly. He no longer had the will to fight. He couldn't do this alone and he didn't want to. He was petrified, but his fear was rapidly being suppressed by his emotional exhaustion. An elf, that he had despised so much in the spring, was now his best and what seemed his only hope. But, Legolas was gone too. His heart sank miserably. He heard someone cry out but he didn't react; what was the point?

Roi opened the door and shook his head sadly, looking to his son. Kaimin looked much like his father; wavy blond hair that was shorter than Roi's, and dark brown eyes that twinkled with suspicion. He was not much older than Estel; sixteen or seventeen and was only a few inches taller than him, but much broader in build and to the terrified youth, he looked horribly imposing. His strong powerful arms from years of working with his father on the river were visible under his soaked tunic.  

"I was tending to the horses, the storm had spooked them, and then I suddenly spotted this one climbing down our house." Kaimin explained, lowering his father's fishing blade.

He nodded and ushered his son away and back into the house, before kneeling beside the teary boy. The man offered his hand, but Estel simply looked away, staring at the dark shadow of the small forest down the shallow valley. Roi followed his gaze and furrowed a thick blond brow. 

"You weren't alone, were you?" He asked gently.

Estel turned to face him, and shook his head. "I must find him before they do-" He immediately went silent, afraid he had said too much.

"So, you are running from someone?" Roi murmured, watching the mysterious child carefully but Estel avoided his gaze. "And your companion is in danger?"

He neither nodded nor shook his head. "I must find him." He muttered cautiously.

The older human nodded. "We could not leave someone out there alone, especially if he has been through the same as you."

"Then you will let me go?" Estel asked hopefully, his grey eyes lighting up.

"You are not well enough, little one. I will form a search party and we will look for him. Come on, we can't discuss this in the rain." He replied, pulling the small figure to his feet as he spoke.

"No! No one must know of my presence, they cannot find me!" He cried anxiously, turning to face the fair-haired human.

"Alright. My son and I will go alone, but only after you answer some questions."

Estel nodded reluctantly and trudged inside, where all but their young daughter waited. Shana quickly wrapped a warm blanket around his shivering shoulders and handed him a mug of steaming tea. He stared at her, a little surprised, but grateful. 

"Kai, go and get dressed, we need to look for someone else tonight." His father instructed, before sitting opposite Estel, who was staring anxiously at the numerous knives on the table. "Oh, there's no need to worry unless you're a fish." He smiled.

The ebony haired boy smiled uncomfortably and sipped his drink.

"Who are we looking for? Father? Brother?" 

A rueful smile crept across his dark features. "No, it is a dear friend I bid you find."

"What does he look like? He is your age I assume." Shana asked quietly, her eyes shining kindly.

"No," He laughed, surprising both himself and the couple. "He is somewhat older than me, but looks not much older than your son. He is an elf."

"An elf?" Roi raised his eyebrows in astonishment. "This tale continues to mystify me."

* * *

He pushed a sopping lock of long blond hair behind his pointed ear, and sighed heavily. The rain was making his search harder with every second, and raised his fears that if Estel were still in the water unconscious as last time he saw, the weather was shortening his odds of survival even further. The river had calmed down after several hours of wildly fast currents and impromptu rapids, and Legolas had managed to swim to the waters edge easily and wait for his young companion, whom he was almost certainly sure was not far behind, and he, no matter how exhausted, would be able to do the same. But he was only greeted with the unconscious, or possibly dead, form of Estel bobbling along the deeper part of the Loudwater, out of reach, and instead found himself racing along the riverbank after him. It had been over three hours since he had lost sight of him, and he had found no sign of Estel since. 

He stopped. There were tracks in the sludge near the water, and reeds that had traces of blood that had not been washed away by the abominable weather. His footprints were now just pools of water, the heavy pelts of rain splashing readily in them, clearly they were a few hours old. Legolas glanced around the creaking old trees, the branches groaning threateningly and the winding screaming around him, sending his hair flailing around his fair face. Spotting the 'E' carved gruffly in the bark of a thick tree trunk, he smiled with relief. He was alive and able. Though judging by his tracks, he was not in the best shape. Buoyed by this discovery, he quickly followed this friend's path before freezing. There were more tracks than Estel's. Big, deep footprints belonging to men, men that Estel had clearly run from. And they had clearly followed him. Legolas' heart sank; Estel was not fit enough to outrun grown men nor clear headed enough to out wit them in the trees, he could only hope something ill had not befallen his young friend.

A remote voice travelling in the wind caught his attention and his elf eyes scanned the small but dense woodland. He spotted a faint light in the distance and carefully edged closer, walking so softly that no twig broke or puddle splashed, until he was barely ten feet away. Legolas glanced at the couple from behind a bushy mound and listened to their muted conversation.

"…All I am saying, father, is that trusting him blindly will lead to trouble." Kaimin muttered lowly.

"He is just a child, too afraid to give us even his name. Trusting him is not the issue, helping him is. He is separated from his family and needs our aid."

Legolas raised his eyebrows and continued to eavesdrop silently.

"Are you sure it is out of fear that he doesn't give his name?" The younger human asked, his blond hair poking out of the hood of his cloak. "And what kind of family is he away from? This so called friend that he's sent us looking for in the lonely hours of the night, is an elf. An elf. How can you trust someone who associates himself with that kind?"

The fair elf pursed his lips irritably at the young man's comments, but at least he knew Estel was safe and in seemingly good hands, they would lead him to his friend and that was all that mattered at this moment. His body ached and his head was weary but he followed them silently for a while, hoping they would soon turn back and return to their home. He listened tiredly to them, and it was not long before he took a strong disliking to the younger man, but he warmed to his father, who seemed a courteous and kind-hearted soul. 

He halted in his tracks and glanced down. He had stepped on an old stick and cracked it. Scolding himself mentally, Legolas looked up at the inevitable sight of the two men. The fair elf watched them warily, his distrust of humans still burning in his soul.

"We have been searching for you, young sir!" Roi spoke warmly. "You are searching for a boy, are you not?"

He stiffened instinctively. "What makes you think I am looking for anyone?"

"Because we found a child, near to death, who asked us to find his companion, an elf, and begging your pardon, master elf, we do not get many folk around here, especially of your kind, so unless for some remarkable coincidence, I believe you to be the person we are looking for." The blond human replied calmly.

"How does he fare?" Legolas asked softly, the words of this strange worrying him greatly.

"So, you are the one he bids us find?"

He nodded. "I am, he is dear friend though I have not known him long. I have been looking for him desperately since we were separated several hours ago." The elf replied politely, reasoning that sincerity and not caution would get him further in this situation.

"My wife is caring for him as we speak. Too scared to even tell us his name and barely trusts us enough to treat him." He replied grimly. "I trust you have a name, Master Elf, or are you to remain as mysterious as he?"

Legolas gazed at him warily. "My name is Legolas, he is Estel, please forgive his caginess, he has been through a lot."

"That is a strange name for a boy." Kaimin smirked.

The elf turned to the shorter human, and frowned. "It is the name his father gave him and I would you show more respect, boy." He growled irritably, his patience for rude humans spent.

"Do not speak to me as if I were a child, you barely look older than I." His dark eyes glowering in the torchlight. 

"Your ignorance of an elf's lifespan does not surprise me." He muttered, before turning to his father. "Please forgive my rudeness, I am weary and long to see Estel again."

The man shook his head, his weather beaten face breaking into a gentle smile. "I understand and we are not offended. I am Roiderick; please excuse my son's disrespect, his mouth moves faster than his head. Come, let us retire to our home and you can be reunited with your young friend and my wife can see to your injuries as well."

Walking in an awkward hush, they moved at a quick pace toward the dark village, the slight glow from their window the only light across the vast land. They were simple houses, a little worse for wear, but sturdy enough, the dirt track that wound around the few houses was now a slick sticky mass of mud. They trudged on, until finally they reached the battered red door and were greeted by Shana, her hair now loose around her shoulders.

She stared at his, a little taken aback by the fair elf. He bowed graciously, his long blond hair dripping down his pale skin. 

"You must be frozen! Roi, why did you not give him your cloak?" She flustered, wrapping a blanket around his lean body.

"He offered it to me, but I do not feel such things, it is better served on your husband's shoulders, I assure you." Legolas smiled softly, warmed by her kindness.

"Oh, of course." She murmured. "You must be hungry, come, I will fix you some soup and Kai will get you towel to dry off-"

"Shana, I think perhaps, that he may want to see his friend before he eats." Roi interrupted gently.

There was a creak of a door from upstairs, and Estel limped into view, his dark curls sitting upon his slim shoulders, and the colour in his face returning. He smiled and lip quivered a little.

"Le abdollen." _[You're late] _He said quietly, his eyes twinkling a little.

Legolas broke into a relieved smile. "Dhored nín." _[Forgive me] _

The elf jogged up the stairs lightly and the young human threw himself into Legolas' arms. The fair being closed his eyes, needing the friendly touch as much as his scared friend did, both clinging onto each other's warmth.

Estel broke away, and looked up at him. "I thought I would never see you again."

"I would not leave you." He replied, his voice so soft that only Estel could hear.

Glancing to their left, Legolas spotted Roi standing, his arms crossed.

"I think we are owed some answers." He spoke firmly. "Young Estel here promised us that much."

He nodded and they gathered in the small bedroom where Estel had slept, at Shana's insistence, so that she could clean some of the elf's already healing wounds the feverish child would go back to bed. The dark haired youth settled under covers, and Legolas sat beside him as she gently rubbed salt water over his slender back.

"Where do you hail from?" 

"We both are from the north." He replied simply.

"Is that as precise as you will be?" Roi frowned.

"It is as precise as I need to be."

"How did you get those injuries and whom are you running from?" He asked cautiously, his hazel eyes glinting in the soft candlelight.

Legolas eyed them warily, before glancing briefly at Estel. "Our company was ambushed by bandits, to our misfortune they were particularly nasty and we were taken. They have been brutal toward us but we managed to escape." He lied calmly. "The memory is very evil and I would rather not speak of it."

Shana nodded. "We will leave you both to sleep, I'm afraid you will have to share a bed."

"Thank you for your help, we will not burden you long."

You are not a burden, I bid you stay as long as you need." She smiled warmly, and they were left alone.

"I have my own questions." Estel said quietly, and the fair elf turned to face him. "I ask that you reply truthfully."

"Of course."

"Why were they trying to kill me?" His voice was barely audible.

"You are Lord Elrond's son. He has many enemies that seek to harm him anyway they can." Legolas whispered, hoping that his eyes would not show his lies.

"Elladan and Elrohir are his real sons, why not them?"

The elf shook his head grimly. "I do not try to understand these men." 

"Why did you deceive me about their threat?" Estel murmured; his eyes stained with hurt.

He looked at his young friend solemnly. "We were trying to protect you."

"How was that protecting me?" He asked furiously.

"What would you have done if you had known? Stayed inside your room until the fear and boredom drove you mad? You deserved your childhood."

They sat in an uncomfortable hush and Legolas rose to his feet and stood by window, gazing out into the gloom.

"I'm sorry, Legolas, I am not angry with you." Estel spoke softly, looking at his hands. "I just feel so… helpless." His lip trembled. "I cannot bear this anymore, we are so far from home a-and… will I see my family again? Where are they?"

The fair elf sat by his side once more and traced his hand along his cheek before pulling him into a tight embrace. 

"We will see your family and Rivendell soon. They are searching for us as we speak." He whispered gently in his ear. "You must stay strong, little one."

"I was lost in despair when I could not escape here. There seemed no point in trying without you."

He closed his eyes. "There is always hope. I would not let you die without correcting that abominable aim of yours." 

Estel snorted. "My aim is not abominable, I mean to miss as it boosts your egos." 

Legolas laughed. "I don't think Glorfindel's ego was boosted by your arrow."

"No, but after we had removed it and he could walk ably again, he had learned a vital lesson."

"Which was?"

"Not to declare that I would miss him if he were only three feet away." He smirked wickedly.

TBC…

Sorry, I had to leave it somewhere or this chapter wouldn't have been posted tonight.      

Thank for my lovely reviews, always a joy (and laugh) to read. But, hah! You can't scream about a cliffy this week, whatever will you do with yourselves?!

Jadelyn Rashwe – We, the authors of these top quality…ahem…stories, are evil, and I personally take delight in torturing you all like this. It's how the world works. Wait, that really doesn't make any sense, oh well, the sight of Shelob has made me into a jibbering wreck. 

Grumpy – I'm well trained in the art of cliffhangers, I took a course… well kind of. I sit in my English Lit class, so bored out of my brain that I devise my story in my head, so it's kind of a course of sorts.

TigerLily713 – Aaw, the poor wee lad was frightened and wanted his friend, you can't scold him for that! I could do with jumping out a window tomorrow before my uncle and co come to visit *groan*

RougeElf – This isn't very soon, but hey, at least it's regular dammit! 

Greenarrow – The whole stunned thing can't be good for your heart dude, though the whole Legolas with his hood up has left me pleasantly stunned. Mmmm… Legless.

Eph – I've never been called a wicked little thing before, I kinda like it. I don't like being forgiven though; it ruins the whole evil persona!

Wolfete – Okay, he was not found by the assassin again. Happy?! There are, however, 11 more chapters to go, so I can't promise anything. My chapters are short I know, but I'll try and work on that in my future stories.

Lita of Jupiter – Get your book out and flick to the maps, follow the Bruinen south until you reach Tharbad, they're just above there. It took me a while to work out where they were, I appear to have lost the family in Moria, damn that malt beer!

Tithen Min – Don't you puppy-dog eye me, missy! I have an umbrella and I know how to use it dammit! Feel the pressure! Woo, I need those randomness pills. Too much Johnny, Orli, Viggo and Hugo for one day, I think I need a hug…

Alex mistress squirrel – Bring it on, rodent girl! No cliffy this week, but ooh, I have something extra special planned for you next week. Hope for ickle Estel? Hmm… It depends whether I'm feeling nice that day.

Leggylover03 – You're very mean, how can you like an eleven year old boy being scared and pitiful? You monster!


	10. A slow recovery

Woo, this chapter was hard to write. I think most of it's quite shit, but it will get better I promise! As much as I try to space writing the chapters over the week, I keeping finding myself furiously typing it on Friday night and Saturday mornings. Would you believe that there are more cinemas showing fucking Giggly err… Gigi umm… Gigli, than Ned Kelly?! What the fuck?! What is our obsession with bloody Americans with no personality invading this country? First that hairy thing (who I believe, along with Martin Keown, is the missing link between man and ape) sitting in a box, and now there's speculation that on the 44th day, he'll suddenly disappear and reappear in Trafalgar Square. Fine. Don't care. Here's a better idea, why don't you disappear now and reappear in America where people give a flying fuck. Then we let that god-awful excuse of a film (and that god-awful excuse for a couple) on our cinema screens! Aaaargh!

Chapter Ten: A Slow Recovery 

It was a grey and gloomy morning and the dawn could barely break through the clouds. It was still raining, the water running down the window bleakly and Legolas gazed across the unfamiliar land uncomfortably. Dressed in Roi's clothes, the elf ran a hand through his blond locks tensely and his nervous pacing eventually woke his ill friend. Estel stared at him blearily, his head thumping more than ever and his skin flushed with fever, he moaned unintentionally, rubbing his eyes with a clammy hand.

"How do you fare?" He asked softly.

"I am fine." The young human lied, limping toward his friend.

Legolas glanced down at him. "You are a bad liar."

"There was a time when you thought different." He muttered, gazing out of the window. "It does not look the same as last night."

"The darkness alters many things." The elf replied softly, watching as Estel steadied himself against the windowsill. "I could not wake you from your dreams last night, I was worried."

He didn't reply and stared at the trees across the plain.

"Did he…?" Legolas questioned tentatively.

Estel turned to him, face blank. "As I said, he did not get the opportunity." He said calmly, before looking the floor. "He told what he was going to do though. Every last detail… I cannot- promise me that we shall never see them again." 

Legolas knelt in front of him, and pulled his chin up so that their eyes met. His grey eyes were too sad and fearful for an eleven year-old, the sparkle that had threatened to return last night was nowhere to be seen. Instead there was a pleading that tugged at the prince's heart, a plea for hope.

"We shall not see them again." He replied firmly, barely believing it himself.

"You are a bad liar."

The fair elf closed his eyes, knowing it was they who had betrayed him, before kissing his unnaturally warm forehead gently and pulling him into a sombre hug.

"You are afraid we have become a sitting target, don't you?" He asked; voice muffled by his friend's shoulder. "We should move on before we are discovered. I do not wish to endanger this family."

Legolas pulled away and rested his forehead on Estel's. "You are too ill to go anywhere."

"I am well." 

"No, if we set off when you are this feverish, you will only slow us down and get us caught. It is better if you are fit and able to bear arms if needed." He explained quietly.

"I cannot fight them! I am not strong enough." His voice squeaked with alarm.

"You are a fine swordsman, Estel. Strength is not the key, quick thinking is and that is why you must stay here until your fever passes and your injuries begin to heal." He whispered with a smile.

"Goblins are different. I am not afraid of them, but Carinyc and Raenir… I cannot face them again, Legolas. My hands start shaking just thinking about them." He mumbled, and the elf felt him tense and his breath quicken. "Can we not just sneak away, under the cover of darkness? We are both light enough on our feet to travel unnoticed-"

"Estel-"

"We could be back in Rivendell within the week-"

"Estel, no. You are light on your feet when you are well. I know you want to go home, but if we set off now… we will not get out of this land alive." Legolas spoke calmly, eyes locked with the frightened child's. "I'm sorry, but I will not risk it."

He nodded sadly, and stepped away, rubbing his neck uncomfortably and closing his eyes. 

The blond prince frowned. "What is wrong?"

Opening his eyes, he peered at his friend groggily. "I feel so strange." He mumbled, trying to brace himself against the bed.

His knees buckled and he fell to the wooden floor with a thud, letting out a meek whimper as he rolled onto his back. Calling out for help, Legolas rushed to his side, the fever burning savagely. 

An hour passed, and Legolas stood in the corner of the small bedroom, watching as Shana tended to him quietly. She glanced over at him cautiously from time to time, as if she were nervous of his presence now that her husband and son were not in the house. Estel laid in a sickly slumber, hands shaking and body sweating, his eyes barely closed. 

"I feared it would get worse before it got better." She said softly. 

"How ill is he?" 

"He is in a bad way, this fever has taken quite a hold of him, but he should recover." 

The elf sighed, running a hand through his long hair. "How long do think it will be until he makes a full recovery?"

"I could not say, if his fever breaks by tonight, then he will be on his feet in no time, but his injuries will not heal properly for a long while." Shana explained, turning to face the fair being. 

Deep in his thoughts, he pursed his lips and walked toward them silently. "We must leave as soon as he feels well enough, it does not matter if his injuries have yet to heal, his father can take care of them."

"And who is his father? Do we not deserve to know more about you both?" The red haired woman asked more boldly. "I would never turn my back on those that need help, but I would feel more at ease if you were more than just 'Legolas and Estel from the north'." 

Legolas paused, gazing at the slightly plump woman, her dark eyes glowing with question.

"I'm sorry, we are injured and exhausted, and in a strange land with people we dare not trust. From what I have seen, you are noble and kind-hearted, but please understand, I cannot reveal too much for our own safety." He replied softly. "Estel is the foster brother of my dear friends."

"He lives with elves?" She presumed wide-eyed.

"Yes, he has a foster father and two foster brothers who love him dearly that are no doubt searching tirelessly for us. Though I suspect they are not getting too far; the weather has made the ground rock hard so there will be few tracks to follow and our captors have been very careful." He explained grimly.

"But it has rained recently, surely that would have aided them?"

"I doubt it, I think we had travelled over one hundred and fifty miles before autumn finally came and the first rain in months fell. They are supremely skilled and are probably on our trail, but I do not think they will find us, especially after our escape into the river. It is a miracle I even found Estel after that." Legolas admitted quietly, pushing back a dark lock from the boy's clammy forehead. "I cannot give him the comfort he craves; he needs to see his family and his home again."

* * *

A few days passed, Estel recovered from his fever after some much-needed rest and Shana's seemingly never ending meals, and now was feeling stronger than he had in almost a week. He was still troubled by the deep wound from Carinyc's knife; sometimes becoming so painful that he could barely walk. It was very trying and his spirits were sinking lower than ever, not even Yolanda, who had taken quite a fancy to him, could make him smile. He rarely spoke to the family; his trust of anyone other than the elf had been severely destroyed, and could barely stand Shana touching him when she cleaned his gashes. 

Legolas was becoming increasingly concerned about their position, though he did not speak of it; if Raenir and the others were hunting for them, which he was almost certain they were, their days of safety were indeed numbered. He had asked Roi to keep an eye out for anyone searching for them, and instructed him that if it was anyone other than an elf (in the unlikely event that Elrond and his sons reached them before Raenir did) then he should not tell them a thing. Each day, he and Kaimin would return with no news, and he relaxed, trying to comfort his despondent young companion with their report. He was still untrusting of these humans, it was not personal, but he continued to avoid their questions, preferring to care for Estel. The elf's own injuries still bothered him a little, his back was often quite stiff, as was Estel's, but his step was still as silent as the grave, which unnerved the family greatly. Yolanda was amazed by his hair, and the fair being sometimes had to sit uncomfortably as she tried to plait his blond tresses. Often, after the young human had fallen asleep, he would venture outside to gaze up at the stars as the family stared wide eyed at the gentle glow that emitted from him, and Roi and Kaimin would watch in awe when he practised his archery with the bow the shaggy haired man owned but rarely used. 

It was on the fourth night that father and son had returned to the humble old house with grim faces. Legolas and Estel were sitting in the dining room, spirits a little higher now that the pain in the boy's hip was now fading into a dull ache. The fire burned gently, the warmth soothing on their still aching limbs and the dark haired youth had snuggled into Legolas' slender arms, and was now in an almost half slumber. Their boots clunked against the floor and came to a halt in the doorway. Kaimin looked down at his hands and Roi cleared his throat uncomfortably. Glancing at them, the elf's heart skipped and he unwittingly tightened his grip on Estel.

"Two men approached our fishing company this afternoon, they were asking everyone questions." Kaimin said quietly.

"What did they look like?" Estel asked, but he already knew it was them.

"Both had dark hair, and were tall and broad shouldered. One had deep brown eyes, the other's were cold blue." Roi replied. "I didn't like either, they had a nasty feel about them. They asked about a blond elf travelling with a young lad, said they weren't to be trusted. We told them we knew nothing and we weren't likely to see an elf in these parts, let alone an elf and a boy together…"

"But…" Legolas could tell in his voice that something was not right.

"I do not think they believed us." He said quietly, brushing his hand against his stubbly chin. "I fear that they followed us back to the village."    

Legolas nodded gently, feeling his young friend's heart thumping hard in his chest. He thought this might happen. The fair elf rose to his feet quickly, and Estel followed suit, clinging to his arm anxiously.

"We must leave, and leave quickly." He announced. 

Roi nodded and marched to the corridor, opening the door to a small cupboard. He pulled out two pairs of boots, and rummaged further inside, before eventually emerging with a smaller cloak.

"They are Kai's old things, I hope they fit."

Estel thanked him and tugged them on, although they were a little big, they were still reasonably comfortable. He glanced up at his friend and couldn't help but smile, no matter how afraid he was. Legolas was wearing heavy black boots, Roi's clothes were too big on his slender form, and the dark green cloak that he had just draped over his shoulders also dwarfed him. 

"Very elegant, my dear elf." He smirked with unexpected mirth.

Legolas glared at him, but was warmed by his spirit. He suspected that although this situation was very dangerous for them both, he was glad to be making a move for home. Cuffing him playfully across the back of his head, they stalked toward the kitchen, where Shana was preparing some food and packing some other supplies into an old brown bag. She smiled anxiously at them and hastened her movements, Estel helping her.

"Kai, go and fetch your father's bow and a couple of his fishing knives. We could not send them out unarmed." She instructed.

The younger human nodded nervously and jogged toward the door.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

They all froze. Estel's eyes widened, the blunt butter knife shook in his hand until it finally fell, hitting the table with a clatter. Legolas glanced over at him and reached for his hand and Estel took it gratefully. They walked across the room slowly, only a very slight scraping noise from their unfamiliar heavy boots making a sound. He peered at Kaimin, who stood next to the front door, completely still.

"Is there another way out?" The elf whispered, hoping that he had somehow missed it when looking the other day.

Roi, who stood in the kitchen doorway, shook his head apologetically. "Hide in the attic, and I will get rid of them." He murmured.

Legolas glanced over at the door; it was Raenir and Carinyc, he could feel it, and agreed reluctantly. He led Estel silently into the corridor, amazed how quiet the young boy had managed to remain as he could tell he was absolutely petrified.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

They stopped halfway up the wooden stairs, and Estel let out a frightened squeak. It wasn't loud, but enough for Legolas to increase their pace, knowing that the longer they delayed opening the door, the more suspicious they would be. They climbed the smaller, winding steps to the attic and closed the small door behind them. Stepping across the blackened room, the moonlight creeping in from a small window the only light, they avoided boxes and other various unknown objects. Estel moved to the window and glanced down warily; he could see Carinyc standing a few feet from the door. He moved away quickly, and bumped into Legolas, who held him still against his body. 

He heard the door open and Raenir's cold voice speaking. Estel was breathing hard, and he clasped a hand across his mouth. The elf's acute hearing could pick up most of what they were saying, and he heard another person speak. It was Kaimin. He frowned; listening to a slight clink and, whom he thought was Raenir, saying 'Thank you'. Footsteps were drawing closer and he took a deep breath.

"Ta naa neuma." He whispered. _[It is a trap.]_

TBC…

Mwahahahaha! You didn't think I could go more than a chapter without a cliffy, did you? There was a distinct lack of reviews this week *sniff* Don't you love me anymore? Who says I can't be neurotic? 

Simbelmyn – Aaw, thank you! Though I warn you, getting addicted to my stories is like getting addicted to Heroin – it's a long hard road to recovery… but with no needles, so that's something. Rest…kind humans… hmm. Sorry, you'll have to wait and see how that turns out!

Lita of Jupiter – It was an accident! Pesky elves…like blood mice running off in different directions…bloody Galadriel…can't hurt me…mutter…mutter. I blamed you of course. I think she's gonna do that whole freaky mind speaking thing she does to you. Hehe. Oh, I don't think turning me into a fluffy bunny is a very good idea, I doubt I can post with paws…

TigerLily713 – That's a good idea… wait, do they have duct tape in Middle Earth? It's a fair question, I guess if sheep managed to get in there, duct tape may have too. A question for miss smarty-pants here: Can mute people burp?

Grumpy – I thought cliffies might get boring, but I couldn't resist it this time! I found Legless and stuck him back in there, he was trying to get a sneaky cigarette in before he found him… bloody poof. Can Aragorn read maps? I thought he just knew everything and didn't need to use one.

Jadelyn Rashwe – They're together, but trouble always comes of it, so should we be glad of their reunion? Hmm…

Alex Squirrel Mistress – It's a term of endearment! Honest… You started it dammit! But keep reviewing, they always make me giggle. Legolas has arrived, but I still can't find the others, I think they may have gone to a strip club in Ibiza…

Tithen Min – No need for randomness pills, just get me some Valium and we'll call it quits! Why is Dublin so treacherous for umbrellas? I opened a brand new one once and the top just flew off into the River Thames. Sigh. Oh, I could love Hugo in a dress, I could love him in anything (except perhaps a thong)


	11. A moonlit race

Sorry, I couldn't get onto the website until now. This chapter's short I'm afraid, and there's a distinct possibility I won't post next Saturday – I have coursework due in and might not have time to write the next chapter this week. I'll try, I really will, but apologies in advance if I don't make it. I'll post as soon as I can. Don't worry, there's not a massive cliffy to freak you out at the end of this chapter, I thought I'd be kind considering I can't guarantee when I'll post. Moving on, I'm not particularly creative today, the England V Turkey had left me a bit weak (do not hold your breath for 90mins, you will lose the feeling in your legs) and England V Georgia & Schumacher V Raikkonen are also jangling my nerves considerably, so err… yeah. I'm thinking of applying a health warning to this story considering the alarming amount of hysterical madness it seems to have induced, but I can't be arsed. So instead send me $39.95 and you'll get a fantastically low priced and unimaginably stylish straight jacket! Complete with FREE Hannibal Lectar mask and random stick so you can scroll down the page! Available in three wonderful colours; Sunshine Yellow, Caribbean Blue and Flamingo Pink, you'll be the envy of the institution! For an additional $16.95, we'll send you our complementary animal print padded walls! All that for just $56.90, how can you say no?! Quite easily, but there you go.

This chapter is dedicated to Vana E, I'm sorry for your tragic loss and I hope I can bring a smile to your face in the coming chapters.

Chapter Eleven: A Moonlit Race    

Estel looked up at the elf, eyes wild with terror and he backed out of Legolas' grasp. A tear ran down his face and he glanced around the dark room anxiously, panicking and shaking miserably. He moved across the room silently, putting his ear to the door.

"Estel!" The elf whispered sharply. "Get away from there!"

"Why? They will kill me if I am standing here or standing there." He replied petulantly but the hopelessness in his voice crackled sadly.

Legolas sighed, and glided across the loft, grabbing his hand and pulling him roughly back to the window. "Estel, forgive the somewhat harsh words I am about to speak, but I must say it. Your lack of hope will get us killed. If you do not try then you will not see your family again. Work with me now, and we will have a chance of surviving this, I am not ready to die and neither should you be." He said firmly, but he felt awful for saying it and was glad it was too dark to see his face.

They stood in silence for a moment, the elf still holding on Estel's arm tightly. He was deep in thought, but still alert to what was happening downstairs, but felt the young boy tapping on his side. Legolas glanced down at him, although it was too dark to see his face, Estel's silver eyes still shone brightly in the dim moonlight. They stared at one another, unblinking and calm until the smaller being nodded gently.

"I will fight." 

* * * 

Raenir smiled wickedly, his greasy black locks pushed behind his ears, and patted the teenager on his shoulder. 

"You have done quite a service, young sir." He said coolly. "Assisting in the capture of two vicious escaped prisoners…"

Kaimin nodded, avoiding his father's astounded gaze and counted the money had been given. The dark haired man looked back to Carinyc, who was following close behind. Roi quickly moved in front of them both, standing at the foot of the stairs, his wavy blond hair swaying above his broad shoulders.

"Vicious escaped prisoners? You must be mistaken, there is no one here." Roi announced coolly. "My son causes nothing but mischief and I am sorry, but he has lied to you. Please, take back your money, we can be of no help to you."

Raenir gave him a long hard stare, before glancing back to the younger man. "You are the one who is lying. Aiding a pair of wicked thieves is not recommended, I suggest you let us past or we shall arrest you as well." 

"Arrest me? And what authority do you have to arrest me?" He growled, trying to hold them up as long for as he could. 

"They are soldiers of Gondor, father!" Kaimin broke his silence. "Can you not see? They are running from the Gondorian Authorities, not from any bandits!"  

He glanced from his son to the two men, their dark cloaks damp and heavy. "Soldiers of Gondor?" He stared at them incredulously. "And where may I ask are your uniforms? Or any mark of Gondor? Or any indication other than your word that you are such soldiers?"

Carinyc clenched his jaw, resting his gloved hand on the hilt of his sword. The two men briefly glimpsed at each other, and pulled out their blades, knocking the blond father the floor, his back thudding painfully on the wooden steps. Shana cried out, and Carinyc quickly turned to face her, leaving Raenir holding his sword to his throat. The blue-eyed figure sheathed his sword and pulled out a smaller knife that was stained with blood, and threw Kaimin against the wall, holding the red tinted blade to his chest.

"I couldn't bear to wipe away his blood; I can still smell him on the steel; his fear, his innocence…" He hissed, glancing at Shana, who stood horrified and trembling a few feet away. "He won't be as fun as little Estel, then again, I probably won't get to do what I wish to him, so Kai here can amuse me."

"We're wasting time!" Raenir barked. "Do what you will with him later, but we have more pressing business to attend to." 

Carinyc smirked, and backed away, following him up the stairs. Shana and Kaimin rushed to his side, helping the winded man to his feet.

"What were you thinking?" He roared at his son. "Gondorian soldiers? I wish you would your head sometimes."    

Thundering up the stairs as fast as his breathless form could go, he found them both kicking at the small door that had obviously been barricaded with something, their heavy weatherworn boots crunching against the wood. Just as he reached them, the door finally gave way and large splinters flew through the air. Their swords were wielded, the long blades shimmering brutally as they burst in. Glancing quickly around the unlit space, their eyes settled upon the window. It was shattered. Raenir roared with anger and ran toward it, stumbling over the unseen obstacles. He reached the ledge and leaned out, watching in vain as the elf and boy scaled down the uneven brickwork with ease. They landed on the soft ground simultaneously, Legolas leaping from a greater height and they hopped over the low fence, sprinting into the distance.

"Rima ten'ta!" The elf cried loudly. _[Run for it]_

Carinyc was already dashing down the stairs when Raenir turned to run and they were quickly in pursuit of their prey. Legolas sped along quickly, although the heavy clothes he now wore were hindering him. His cloak swished behind him, making it hard to check on Estel's progress. The young boy followed on his heels, his boots thudding against the wet grass. Most would have found it difficult to run down the slope when it was so slippery, but both were light and were running so fast, their feet struck the ground for such a short period of time that it was almost impossible to skid. Estel took another breath and quickened his pace even further, the fear and adrenaline surging through his veins made his body more urgent.    

His heart thumped and lungs heaved. The forest was about two hundred yards away and didn't seem to be getting any closer. He was only a little way behind the elf. Glancing behind him, he saw Carinyc following behind, almost forty yards back, but it felt like forty inches. Estel closed his eyes momentarily, trying to get the man's image out of his head. His breathing quickened once more and his stomach churned.

"Are you still with me?" He heard Legolas cry.

"Yes!" The boy replied breathlessly. 

Carinyc was gaining on him. He could feel his eyes burning into his skin. He felt useless running like this. Until they reached the trees, it was a flat-out race, and his legs ached too much to win. 

"Asca!" _[Hurry]_

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Grudoc storming toward them from the side. He didn't concern either of the fleeing companions; both could outrun him easily, his burly form was strong but slow. Too afraid to check back, he sprinted on. The slim human's legs hurt, but did not affect his pace; his desperate need to stay out of their grasp driving him on relentlessly. Memories of Carinyc made his limbs strive to go faster. Estel moved swiftly, his head reeling. 

Faster. Run. He's catching you. Those eyes. That wicked smile. Fly.  

A solitary figure watched them from the flank. His eyes glimmered like the black wings of a raven, and narrowed. They were almost square of him. He doused the head in a murky black liquid and straightened his body. He raised his bow. The dull thuds of their feet and cries muted. He took a short breath and aimed. Only the slight creak of the bowstring as he drew back registered in his ears. One eye closed and his fingers released. 

The forest was drawing closer, the tall shadowy trees looming over them and his heart felt a pang of hope. The trees reminded Estel of Mirkwood from the tales his brothers had told him when he was younger. In the forest they could lose them; there was no want in confronting them unarmed. For the moment he was free from their torment he had no intention of being captured without a fight. 

The arrow fizzed through the cold night air silently.

He stumbled sideways, unsure what had even happened. Estel didn't make a noise, but his arm was in agony. He carried on running, but he knew something was seriously wrong. Reaching the edge of the woods, he stumbled into the even gloomier confines of the trees, groping at his shoulder. He winced, feeling the smooth length of wood that was sunk painfully in his arm. Estel slowed down, he scanned his surroundings but could see no sign of Legolas. Trotting deeper into the forest, his arm ached terribly and he felt his steps becoming more laboured. His head was groggy and he couldn't focus on where he was going. 

He heard a twig snap and voices talking nearby.

They were drawing closer and he quickly tried to pull himself together. There was no time to find Legolas now; he had to look after himself. Walking unsteadily away from the voices, he wobbled and brushed against a tree, the arrow protruding from his left shoulder snapped, leaving the head rooted painfully in his flesh. He hissed in agony and clutched his limb tenderly, the splintered end grazing against his fingers. 

Glancing back, he saw their shadows approaching. 

He was getting worse by the second. He couldn't think. The pain was spreading from his arm and attacking his senses. He could barely see. Stabs of pain erupted over his small body and black liquid oozed from his arrow wound. He gasped, feeling the breath being sucked from his lungs and his chest tighten. Collapsing to his knees, the brambles and dead leaves on the dark forest floor crunched and cracked beneath him.

The moon emerged a little from the rumbling clouds and a silvery wash of light writhed though the canopy, giving Estel some hope of seeing what lay beside him. Rolling onto his side, his head swung unsteadily. Noticing a dark spot, he fumbled his shaking arms toward it and realised it was a gap underneath the tree roots. Amazed that luck had finally seemed to rejoin him after its desertion weeks ago, he scrambled inside into the pitch black. He lay still. His heart was thudding in his chest unbearably hard. His whole body felt as if it were on fire. Every breath he took made his fragile body hurt more. He could hear them talking. They were close. Short, shallow panicked breaths rung in his ears. He was breathing too loudly. They would hear him. He clamped a trembling hand over his mouth and backed as deeply as he could into the hole.

They were in the small clearing he had been just moments before. His head thumped. He could hear each step they made, feel the slight vibration in the soil. He slumped his head back against the damp wall of earth, willing them to move on. Raenir was very close. He could hear the slight clink from the loose buckle on his boot. 

Walk away. I am not here, he urged silently. 

His heart skipped a beat. His abductor's leg was grazing against the bramble he had fallen onto. Estel could smell him.

"He will not get far." He heard Donvan's cold voice say. "That arrow has either killed him, or it has injured him enough to stop him running. It is poisoned and will quickly incapacitate him."

A shadow moved over the small entrance of his hiding space and he closed his eyes tightly.

TBC…

Mwahahahahahahaha! *Quickly scrambles for her fake passport and jets of to Iraq, deciding the false moustache will probably get her arrested or shot and therefore shouldn't be taken* Okay, so I lied! Big deal. I know you all like the suspense.

A big thank you to my reviewers this week, who said being neurotic doesn't get you anywhere?

Websterans – Thank you for reading! I thought I'd stick that little line in because there was a little twinkle in Legless' eye when he said it in the film, so I gave it more depth. Then again, Orli always has a twinkle in his eye…for me. Slurp.

Tinnuial – Oo-er, my insurance covers people going mad at this story, not dying from it. Can you go mad instead? There will be more banter if I decide to let them live. Leggy may go mad and end up working as a team mascot in Milton Keynes.

Dragonfly32 – Kai isn't as ruthless as I made him look before, be nice. I have many surprises up my sleeve, except for rabbits, the damn things bite me.

TigerLily713 – Ah, you make a valid point. Don't gut Kai, that's not very nice. He's just a grumpy teenager who swallowed some lies. Okay, another random question; scientists say that all polar bears are left handed, but how do they know? 

Alex Mistress Squirrel – How can you question my sanity? Me mad? Never, am I Mr Nutkin? *pulls out sock puppet* Nnnnnooooooooo, you can't make me go back there! I won't go! Maybe I should get one of those straight jackets for myself. But there will be consequences, Miss Rodent, ooh yes, no one questions my sanity and gets away with it!

Maranwe1 – Well stick me on that little list then! Yes, I'm cruel and I love it, I'm English, I have to get rid of my cruel streak through my stories or I'll end up fox hunting. I love you too, but I'm emotionally drained so I love the calculator next to me as well.

Jadelyn Rashwe – Oops, should I feel bad that I've sent you insane? I should shouldn't I? Oh well, mehehehe, you're a crazy ass bitch! No offence. Well, this cliffy will haunt you for a while! Mwahahahahaha!

Grumpy – You can have him as long as I get him back when he's older! You can tempt me away with Hershey bars! Send me some Cookies and Cream bars and I'll send you all the chapters in advance without harming a hair on his head, deal?

Simbelmyn – And what's better to go with your new institution than a sleek and stylish straight jacket? No, seriously though, cure your addiction after my stories have finished (there's at least 8 chapters left and two more stories in this series)

Leggylover03 – I could leave it there because I am EVIL! Mwahahahahahahahahahhahahahaha!

Lita of Jupiter – Wow. That's a hell of a review! You can't steal Legless! Well, you can if I can have Aragorn and Elrond… ooh father and son, kinky! Fan girls are vicious, I haven't decided what I'm doing with Carinyc yet (well I have but I'm not telling you) so you can release them when I say. Yeah, I love the idea of she-elves spoiling him, I'd love to read your dialogue! Elrond and co are in Faliraki and they won't come back, you, go and collect them and I'll stop Galadriel from killing you, it's a good deal all round. Oh, and dead people can't type either…

Astievia – Sorry… cliffies are kinda a permanent thing with me. I don't take kindly to threats missy, cross me and I'll shake you like a British nanny!

Vana E – I'm sorry, it must be extremely difficult for you *sends virtual hug* there will be lots of elf torture in coming stories that might make you feel a little better. 

Tithen Min – I don't think I can bring myself to watch it! Hugo is gorgeous in trousers, I'll stick to that. Eurgh, college. It's messing with my story! Grr… Golf umbrellas are evil, and should be banned from people under 6 feet tall! Alice for Prime Minister! I'll ban golf umbrellas, ginger people and the Cheeky Girls! How could you not vote for me?!


	12. reacquaintances

Oh my god, don't kill me! I'm sorry it took this long, but I got to Tuesday and I still wasn't happy with it, then all the random cogs and wheels in my vastly underused brain started to whir and I thought: Fuck it, who the hell wants to read a god-awful rushed chapter on a Wednesday, when they can read a longer, far better chapter that I spent all week on, on Saturday? And here it is. It was enormously difficult to write and any Estel fans may want to look away… Speaking of Aragorn, I am now officially the proud owner of his cardboard cut out! Wahey! Technically, I'm not sure if I am its owner; me and my friends spotted it at a cinema after watching Finding Nemo and being the strange fellow I am, I squealed and we joked about taking it. I walked to the door and suddenly I hear my friend scream "RUN!" and found myself tearing down the street holding Aragorn under one arm! The legs were unfortunately sacrificed during transit, but it was mainly advertising anyway. So now I have Aragorn in my bedroom… ah, every girl's fantasy! Oh and mixed news, I am on half term now, so I have time to write the chapter this week, but considering my footie team is playing my family's footie team, I may not survive past 4:45pm today as my sister may beat me to death with her elf boots if results go a certain way.

Chapter Twelve: Re-acquaintances  

Crouching in the gloom, he watched their dark figures standing in the small clearing. He was near enough to hear what they were saying and Donvan's words had chilled the blood in his veins. They were heavy on their feet, sensing how close they were to recapturing their target and were no longer covering their tracks. Torture was not on their agenda this time. Donvan was clearly in charge now. Recover and kill. 

Where was Estel now?

The elf was furious with himself for losing him. Pushing it to the back of his mind, he ventured closer, knowing that anger with himself would lead to carelessness which would do nothing but aid their deaths. He frowned. Something had caught his eye next to Raenir and he slipped through the trees swiftly and silently until he was less than ten yards away. They were still talking amongst themselves. Legolas stared at the bramble at the man's feet; the spindly stems were broken and a small spatter of blood stained the leaves. Spotting the small gap behind, he smiled slightly but was uneasy of how close his friend was and what state he was in.

A plan whirred through his head and he clenched his jaw, deep in thought. He shifted to the left of the small glade until he was at a right angle to the tree Estel was cowering beneath. His slender fingers grazed across the forest floor and he picked a small pinecone up. It was an old trick, but usually effective. Throwing it as far in the opposite direction as he could, hearing it hit something about thirty yards away, the four men strode off in that direction and Legolas made his move. Stooping as low as he could, he disappeared behind the tree Estel hid under and listened to his ragged breathing.

"Estel, it is I." He whispered.

A low groan was the only reply he could manage.

The fair elf frowned with concern. "Listen to me carefully. No matter what you hear me say, stay where you are. Do not move, I will return for you later. I promise." He uttered firmly, not waiting for a response.

Backing away carefully, making sure they would not spot him near the youngster's hiding place, Legolas took a deep breath, pushing a few drifting strands of his plaited hair out of his face, and stepped into view, crunching a few leaves for extra effect. He felt their eyes fall on him, and he sped away, darting through the trees.

"Run, Estel! This way!" He cried, disappearing into the darkness.

Raenir and Grudoc were quickly in pursuit of him, their heavy boots thundering against the damp ground. Donvan narrowed his eyes and stopped his last companion from joining them.

"I do not think he is strong enough to keep pace with the elf." He spoke softly, eyes glancing suspiciously at their surroundings. "We should search nearby, it is far more likely that the boy is hiding somewhere and he's creating a diversion of sorts."

"Then we should call the others back." Carinyc whispered.

"No. We need the elf dead as well, he is cunning and astute, without him, the boy will not stand a chance. I will not rest until they are both dead." He growled. "You search west, and search thoroughly, every tree, hole, bush and nook is a possible hiding place."

Estel curled up in the hole, he could not make out what they spoke of, but their lingering presence concerned him greatly. He could feel Carinyc nearby. It was getting colder and his body shifted from burning to freezing too often for comfort. Suppressing a shiver, Estel listened, as the sound of heavy footsteps grew nearer. They scraped against the soft earth and he held his breath, knowing that his heavy breathing would give away his location instantly. Carinyc paused, slapping his hand against the tree trunk casually, causing Estel to almost jump out of his skin, before stalking away slowly. He sighed, and manoeuvred himself cautiously so he could examine his arm. Although it was too dark to see much, he could feel the short length of wood sticking out painfully. It wasn't bleeding much, but the poison was seeping out and he wiped it gently with his clammy fingers. Tasting it, he grimaced, recognising the bitter taste. It was an extract of a flower native to Rhudaur, he knew it well and the effect it would take in the coming hours. He had to remove it quickly while he was still relatively clear-headed.

It was going to hurt though, he could still remember the scream that had rang through the halls of Imladris following he and Glorfindel's 'little accident'. He couldn't help but smile at the memory but promptly sobered to the prospect of doing the same thing. Pulling his cloak from underneath him, he stuffed as much of it as he could into his mouth and gripped onto the inch of timber that was accessible. He took a deep breath through his nose, the rich scent of soil soothing his nerves slightly, and tugged it as hard as he could. The searing pain brought tears to his eyes, and he let out a muffled groan. 

Panting anxiously, he let the arrowhead fall to the ground and slumped his head back against a tree root. He spat out the cloth and hissed; his lungs felt as if they would burst but by removing the head he could now suck out the poison. He had to move swiftly, he knew that. It wasn't easy but he managed to turn his arm enough to reach the now bleeding wound and clamped his lips over it. 

It took three or four attempts to remove as much as he could. The horribly bitter taste of the poison, mixed with mouthfuls of blood made his stomach heave and he threw up. Estel wiped his face with his sleeve, partly relieved he had vomited as it had washed the poison from his mouth, and felt a little better, though he knew some of the toxin was already in his blood and would make him quite ill for a day at least. The young boy groaned slightly, pushing his sweaty black locks out of his face and traced the ground, looking for the discarded arrow. Clasping it in his fingers, he grimaced, the pungent smell of the vomit combined with the overwhelming scent of the poison, made his eyes water. He couldn't remain here. His presence was too obvious. 

His head still reeled uncomfortably, but the pain was slowly subsiding. Clambering to the entrance, his eyes darted around, checking his surroundings warily. He couldn't hear anyone. Estel knew he had to get out now, despite what his friend had instructed. Where he would go, he had not a clue. He wouldn't be a sitting target. He had to use the cover of darkness to full advantage. Taking a last glimpse, he scrambled out into the open once more, and crept lowly into the denser part of the unfamiliar forest. His step was more laboured than usual, and he struggled to move through the trees without disturbing something beneath him. Pausing, he heard the river running to the west of him and he shifted his course to meet it. At least by following the Bruinen upstream, he would have some sense of direction and he was pretty sure Legolas had fled that way too.

The leaves crunched quietly under his boots and the unfriendly hoot of an owl startled him. Wiping away the beads of sweat forming on his tanned forehead, he winced. His arm still ached and the chill of the wind was stiffening his limbs, cutting through the thin fabric of his oversized tunic. He had been forced to dump his cloak as it stank, but now the cold was biting, his fingers numbing by the minute. Trudging on unthreatened for ten or so minutes, he began to relax a little, but was still alert to every sound. 

Estel froze.

He could hear someone nearby. His heart quickened and breathing became shallower with alarm. It was not Legolas. Too heavy on foot. It was Carinyc. He could feel it. He was muttering about something to himself and Estel scurried to the shelter of a nearby bush. 

Carinyc halted in his tracks, looking around the shadowy trees. Something had moved. His eyes narrowed and he took a step forward, drawing his smaller knife. A slight smile drew across his face.

"Little Estel…" He sighed. "Cannot bear to be without me?"

Estel closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing but couldn't stop a shaky gasp escaping his lips. The blue-eyed human's head snapped to the side, his eyes locking in the terrified boy's direction. 

"Oh, come now, surely you missed me as much I missed you?" He laughed coldly, taking a few steps closer.

A tear rolled down Estel's cheek as he crouched unmoving in the gloom. He wanted to run, but he remained rooted to the spot. He glanced down at the arrowhead in his hand, he was now holding it so tightly that the sharp blade pierced his skin and was bleeding painfully. The silver eyed youth hissed and pulled it from his flesh. Carinyc's footsteps grew louder. Closer. Estel took a deep breath and rose to his feet, to see his tormentor a few feet away. Carinyc lunged at him but he managed to scramble out of his grasp.

He cried out, and stumbled away, bursting between saplings and ancient tree trunks as fast as his trembling legs would take him. Throwing himself against a thick pine tree, he disappeared from view, his chest heaving and hands shaking. Estel held his breath, hearing the human approaching once more.

"Aren't we the swift little one?" He hissed. "But no matter how fast you run, you'll never escape me."

Estel didn't move. His head thumped, remains of the poison were still in his system and were hampering him. Blood ran down his hand mercilessly, staining the bark and pattering onto the overgrown plants. 

"You're beginning to annoy me, boy. Remember how I am when I'm annoyed?" Carinyc growled, leaping forward and slashing the foliage of a bush next to the petrified child.

The vicious blade sliced through the spindly branches and caught his arm. Estel screamed, watching the blood soak into his sleeve momentarily, before turning to run. He sprinted over the uneven ground, faster than he could imagine. Leaping over a log and past a rabbit warren, he glanced back. Carinyc was still on his tail. Darting from side to side, his nimble footwork hindered the ferocious human, and he stumbled to the ground with a thud. Estel continued to speed away, not looking back anymore. 

The human rose to his feet quickly, and pursued him relentlessly. The small figure was getting away. He wouldn't let that happen. Estel was too much fun to lose. He wanted to hear the child scream again. To feel his body tremble. Finish the job he'd started. To satisfy his craving. Carinyc raced along, gaining on the frightened creature. He was only ten feet away and could smell his fear.

Tears ran down Estel's cheeks, he had no idea where he was going and Carinyc was rapidly gaining on him.

"Legolas!" He cried out speculatively, hoping that the elf was close.

Silence greeted him and he checked back on his torturer's progress.

He didn't see it coming. 

Falling down the trench with a thud, he spluttered and moaned softly. He glanced up at the torn ivy that had hidden the ditch, and gulped. Carinyc's icy eyes twinkled wickedly, clenching his fists; he swooped down, his boots landing with a splash. Standing over Estel, he grunted with satisfaction and broke into an evil smirk. The frightened boy tried to take a deep breath but couldn't steady himself, and shifted backwards. The rich scent of the damp earth surrounded him, intoxicating his slightly feverish senses, but his presence alone was enough to sober him. His lip trembled as he tried to get away.  

Carinyc grabbed his foot and dragged him back toward him, laughing coldly. The dark haired man knelt over him, trapping Estel's legs with his. He pulled his head from the ground by his hair and leaning in closer to the terrified child. Burying his nose into Estel's hair, he inhaled deeply. 

"I've missed your smell." Carinyc murmured in his ear.

He ran his fingers through the trembling youngster's wavy locks and smiled. "Alone at last." He whispered, tracing Estel's jaw line softly.

Estel clamped his silver eyes shut, willing himself away. He struggled, his arms thrashing about underneath the older human. He wasn't here. This wasn't happening. Suddenly, he felt his hand tighten round his throat.

"Open your eyes!" He growled. "Look at me!"

He couldn't. Tears poured down his cheeks in a stream of fear and hysteria. Estel struggled for breath, his throat being easily crushed by Carinyc's powerful hand. His lungs were about to burst. This was not happening. This was a horrible dream; he'd wake up any moment and be alone.

"LOOK AT ME!" He roared, striking him across his face.

Reluctantly his eyes wrenched open, bloodshot and ablaze with terror and Carinyc released his grasp. His nose and mouth were bleeding gently, and he choked as it ran down his throat. The older man smirked cruelly, letting Estel squirm underneath him, before shoving him back against the ground, his back thumping against a rock painfully. His whole body shook, fighting desperately but ineffectively as Carinyc tugged and grabbed at his clothes. 

"Go on, squeal." He hissed. "Scream."

Estel grimaced at the hot breath on his neck and pulled his arms over his face protectively. This was not happening. He heard the tunic he wore rip and the cold night air against his bare skin. His skin crawled as Carinyc's rough hands touched his torso and his fingers drew round the edges of his bandages.

"How… disappointing." His voice so soft, he could barely hear him. "My handiwork has been all patched up. I guess we shall just have to start afresh."

"Just do what you will and kill me." Estel coughed, his voice muffled by his arms.

"Oh, come now, little boy. Where is that fighting spirit I adored? Will you not at least amuse me?"

The smaller human moaned despondently, blood covering his face from his nose and the wounds on his arms. They were pulled away and he was forced to look into his tormentor's cold eyes once more. Those eyes that he'd tried to remove from his memory. His top was torn from his body, leaving his upper body naked and vulnerable, the cool soil soaking into his dressings on his back. Breathing panicked and ragged. He was crying uncontrollably now, tears soaking into his bloodstained face unrelentingly.

"Don't do this." He whimpered.

Carinyc cackled and pulled the weeping boy into a sitting position, close to his chest. Thrashing out of his clutches and shoving the broad man backwards, Estel crawled up the bank, the forest coming back into view over the ridge. Two powerful hands gripped onto his boots and yanked him back down the slope on his stomach, smearing him with dark mud. His fingernails scraped into the earth frantically, he cried out, clinging onto the hope that anyone would find him. Even if it were Donvan, at least he'd die before Carinyc could touch him again. 

"Don't do this!" He shrieked.

He felt the ebony haired figure lean down so that his stomach pressed against his sore back and pushed back his locks. Lips kissing his neck roughly, hands groping at him freely. His cries of protest crumbling into despairing sobs. Carinyc's fingernails scratching his skin, his forceful grip bruising his flesh painfully. Teeth grazing his earlobe. Estel shirked away quickly, burying his face into the ground, the man's presence enough to make him physically sick. With all his might, Estel kicked out, catching him in the thigh and he felt Carinyc climb off him. 

He lay there, unmoving, weeping quietly. The wind murmured through the thinning leaves in the trees, the light rustle the only sound in the forest. Noticing the sudden hush, he shifted a little and glanced to the side, hoping that by some miracle, Carinyc had disappeared. A boot connected with his ribs and he slid to the bottom of the ditch, landing in a heap in the thick mud. Estel groaned in agony, rolling onto his back as Carinyc strode toward him. He curled into a ball, staring at the ground, avoiding those eyes.

"I was going to be gentle." He snarled. "But now I'm going to make you scream so loudly that your pretty elf will hear and find what's left of you once I'm done. He will kill you himself - out of mercy."  

The vicious human dragged Estel by his hair, and forced a harsh kiss on his bleeding lips. He managed to push him away and collapsed back to his knees, throwing up. His hands sunk into the freezing sludge. His eyes widened. Carinyc was tugging at his waistband. He let out a horrified yelp, his mud-spattered curls falling over his teary eyes as he fumbled for something to fight back with. Anything. His hands were caressing the small of his back. He whimpered, snivelling fearfully. His fingers stumbled upon something in the mud and gripped it.

Spinning onto his back, he lashed out speculatively, unsure of what was even in his hand, hoping it to be a rock or something similar. Carinyc cried out, clutching his face. Blood gushed from a long slash across his cheek and Estel looked down at what he held; it was the arrowhead he'd dropped when he had fallen. The broadly built human pounced on him, striking him ferociously across the chin. He kicked Carinyc in the knee and turned to run, but was shoved in the back, sending him tumbling to the ground once more. 

"Don't waste your breath fighting me, you'll have no energy to scream for mercy later!" He snarled, but laughed cruelly with that.

Grabbing the bleeding youth, he turned him around so they faced one another and pulled a knife, about the size of his hand, out of his belt, and pressed it against his throat, choking and cutting into his skin with same action. Estel tried to wriggle from his grip with his legs but he quickly clambered on top of him, pinning him down. Carinyc used his free hand to stroke the quivering boy's cheek, brushing his eyelashes with his sweaty fingers.

"You really do have the most striking eyes I have ever seen." He murmured. "They do not disguise a thing. All your fear… that beautiful innocence being ripped apart in front of me."

Slowly, he trailed his grubby fingers down Estel's torso and unbuttoned his trousers, wrenching them down. Carinyc leant in, kissing his cheek and moving to the child's lips. Thrusting his tongue into Estel's mouth, his hand stroked the boy's thighs and slowly moved higher. He broke the imposed kiss, to see his victim's eyes were shut tightly, his face screwed up bleakly. 

He dug the knife further into his throat. "Look at me."

Estel's eyes unwillingly crept open, though now at least his vision was blurred from the tears and Carinyc was now just a nightmarish haze.

"This is going to hurt you more than you can imagine." He whispered casually.

His hand slid between his legs and Estel stared up at Carinyc, eyes wide with terror, begging him to stop, but was simply met by his lusty grin. 

"NO!" He shrieked hysterically and slammed his hand against the man's chest in a last desperate attempt to push him away.

His eyes widened. Grip loosened around his neck. Hands rose to his chest. He let out a low moan. 

Estel gaped at him, with no idea of what had happened.

Scarlet surges of sickly blood streamed though Carinyc's fingers, seeping down and dripping onto the weeping boy's body. The older human moved his hand away and Estel spotted the familiar splinters of Donvan's arrow protruding from his chest. He gasped; he hadn't even realised it was still in his hand. Carinyc looked at him, his blue eyes dazzled with shock, his face draining of colour and hands shaking violently. He slumped down on top of Estel, body still. 

Estel froze, completely stunned. He gawped at the man laying on him, mouth hanging open. He could feel the fractured wood scraping against his skin and the hot blood draining onto him. A shaky sigh of horror and relief passed from his lips, his lungs heaving with panicked, ragged breaths. Scrambling from underneath his weight, he retreated to a few feet away, and watched him as the moonlight blanketed them in a surreal silvery glow. The wide-eyed youth sat there, rooted to the spot, covered in the dead man's blood. His tears dried and he simply looked at him silently.

A few minutes passed, and he slowly rose to his feet, not taking his eyes off the unmoving form of Carinyc. His dark hair hung limply on his shoulders and blood ran sluggishly from his nose and mouth. He took a step back, almost stumbling to the ground at the forgotten slope. Tearing his eyes away, he glanced down at his mud soaked trousers that hung loosely at the top of his thighs. He cringed mournfully and pulled them up tentatively but leaving them unbuttoned, deep stinging fingernail scratches low on his stomach making it too uncomfortable. Scratches and quickly darkening bruises littered his trembling body and he frantically tried to wipe away the dirty mass of the other's blood, but it only smeared across his arms and soiled his trousers. His body was a muddle of mud and blood, only a few inches of his skin remained unblemished.

He stepped a little closer, and nudged Carinyc's head with his boot. He was dead. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, unsure of how he felt. He felt sick. He'd killed someone. He was glad Carinyc was dead. But it was an accident. Estel staggered backwards, climbing out of the ditch. His lip trembled and he clasped a blood stained hand over his mouth. Taking one last look at his dead tormentor, he edged away unsteadily, still watching the corpse, as if he might suddenly wake. He turned away and bumped into someone, falling to the ground.

Estel looked up fearfully at the figure standing over him and a tear rolled down his bloody cheek.

TBC…

Ah, my reviewers, you always make my Monday mornings bearable!

Jadelyn Rashwe – Ah, don't get yer knickers in a twist, it's all about the English humour, deal with it! Bloody Americans…

Seanthi – Oooh, that sounds like fun! I was always shit at skipping so I could just jump on them…

Lita of Jupiter – Celeborn? I don't understand either, make it Elrond at least! Did you find them? Oh, and I really am having them, you can't stop me. I need sleep dammit! And feed your fangirls, they're chewing on the bars. Oh, and if you disable me for life, then I will so get offended and just refuse to finish the story. Trust an American (I have no idea if you're American but hey) to have a pet gun, I have a cat/llama, can't you leave it as that?!

Leggylover03 – You can claim compensation for that… but not from me, 'cause I'm a poor student and that's not fair. I don't think you can just crawl into Imladris from where they are… but if I get bored, you never know.

Astievia – Our favourite twins will pop back in when they stop chasing those bloody strippers in Las Vegas. Sigh. I think they've stolen someone's credit card. On a serious note, you'll have wait and see, that's as much as I'll give away. Which, in fact, is nothing.

TigerLily713 - *Groan* Trust me to ask the scientist to make me look stupid… bah. Oh well, at least Polar Bears are my people, and I can wage my war, the last war, that will cover all the world in shadow, or rainbows depending on how I feel that day, against all the 'orrible righties. Mwahahahahaha! I may need scientists, you wanna hop on board?  

Grumpy – Oh, you will give me back my Aragorn, I'll give you my Pepsi cut out in exchange, that or I will be forced to whack you with my keyboard! Feel free to whine, or swear, I can't swear at home anymore as it costs me money.. Stupid fucking bastard wankers! Aargh! Discrimination! I have undiagnosed Tourettes..ahem.

Alex Mistress of the Dirty Ugly Rodents Who Pollute This World – Insane freak? Ooh, you don't want to offend me lass, I've been to I-raq, I have friends there who will do my bidding! Mwahahaha! Glad you like my story!

TrinityTheSheDevil – Ah, how nice! I want the throne though, not the rickety stool next to it. You'll have to move out though (How you move out of hell, I'm not sure) I don't share power. Oh, and I don't do torture, I have a manicure to protect. I'll be the biggest diva in hell…

Dragonfly32 – They're the same thing aren't they? Don't get stressed, my cliffies help soothe the soul and create good karma. You wouldn't have any other way.

Eph – Well, now you have long and erm… not sweet. 

Maranwe1 – Oh, totally, me and the calculator got married, now it wants kids. I'm not sure how that'll work out…When you say awful, I hope you mean horrible, rather than shit.

Vana E – Of course I dedicated it to you, you've been going through a really tough time and you still reviewed, I should be the one squeaking, but I don't squeak…English genetics. Damn, I can't promise elf torture… I'll try! Okay, maybe not this story, certainly not the one after, but the one after that, I can absolutely guarantee Legless torture.

Tithen Min – Aha! One vote. That's one step toward total world domination…*plots quietly* Of course I'll get rid off the odd couple, I'll string them up in Trafalgar Square so you can throw inanimate objects at them to your heart's content. Tith, do you think I'm remotely afraid of you? I have I-raq behind me and ginger cat with a complex, you on the other hand, have a medical cupboard. Yeah, you shake that finger and I'll blow it off with my newly acquired Uzi. That'll teach you.  


	13. tears and reflections

SOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRYYYYY! This chapter took a little longer than expected; I'm sick and through sneezing, coughing and generally feeling icky, I seem to have lost the ability to a) Concentrate, and b) Spell. Moving on as I continue to look for this mysterious place called Tahoe, you can all send your birthday wishes to me, for I turn 18 on Friday – yay me. As I also seem to have lost the ability to be remotely funny (not to mention the fact that because of this cold I sound like a 15-stone Rugby player from Grimsby) I'll just stop babbling and let you read the damn chapter. Bah.

Chapter Thirteen: Tears and Reflections

Estel looked away, his cheeks burning. Climbing back to his feet, he wrapped his arms around his slim torso self-consciously and walked past him, his shoulder brushing against the other's arm. He froze. His stomach lurched at that single touch and a shudder ran down his spine. Glancing back momentarily, he trudged on a few more steps.

"Estel?" He heard his friend softly bid.

The dark haired youth paused, but didn't turn to meet his gaze.

"We should move on swiftly, the others probably heard me…" He trailed off uncomfortably.

Legolas watched him anxiously, his heart thumping hard in his chest. He was shaking, shoulders hunched, covered in dirt and blood that wasn't his. He'd spotted Carinyc's body as soon as he had come across his friend, and his heart had lifted. Not anymore. The fair elf could plainly see the scratches on his body, and that half his clothes had been ripped off him. 

"Are you-"

"Come on, master elf, I am sick of the sight of these trees, let's go." Estel continued, taking a further step.

"Estel-" He began gently once more.

"Legolas, you are slowing us down."

"Stop, Estel." 

"Come on!" He replied, his voice exasperated.

"Nay, you are-"

"Just… leave it, Legolas." The human turned to face him, but stared at the ground.

The elf gazed at him ruefully, a sense of dread swallowing his soul. He sighed, and trod tentatively toward the trembling figure, biting his lip awkwardly. They stood in silence for a moment and he watched the rise and fall of Estel's bloodstained chest, the visible quiver of his body and the flush in his cheeks. His eyes trailed down and he noticed his unbuttoned trousers and the deep vicious scratches that disappeared beneath his waistband.

"Don't look at me like that." Estel murmured.

"I am worried about you." He replied earnestly, trying to meet his eyes.

"It was an accident."

Legolas frowned. "What?"

"I-I didn't even realise it was even in my hand. I didn't mean to kill him."

"That is not what I am worried about." He spoke softly. "Did Carinyc… did he hurt you?"

"This is his blood, not mine."

"I can see that." The elf replied uncomfortably. "Please answer my question."

Estel didn't reply, his eyes welling up involuntarily. Rubbing his neck, he didn't spot Legolas move in front him. The elf placed his palm softly against his cheek. He snapped away from his thoughts and leapt out of Legolas' reach, his heart racing like never before. His reaction had shocked them both. The younger being felt the heat rise to his cheeks again and his hands shake more violently. He was ashamed and it scared him as much as it hurt Legolas. He felt his hand rest gently on his shoulder; the elf was shaking as much as he was. Estel closed his eyes, trying as hard as he could to stop his stomach lurching, to get Carinyc's face out his mind. His breathing quickened and he clamped his eyes tighter, biting his lip. Legolas looked down at him, his own lip trembling at the boy's reaction, and recoiled his hand.

Estel glanced up at him for a moment. "I'm sorry." He whispered apologetically. "I just can't."

"There is nothing to apologise for, little one. Do not be afraid to talk to me, I am always here." The elf replied softly, but his anger and disbelief at the men boiled inside him.

He nodded, flinching as Legolas placed his thick tunic over his shoulders, but welcomed the reprieve from the cold. Pulling it on, he glanced at his solemn faced friend, and felt a little less vulnerable now that his injuries were no longer visible.

"Why did you get another layer?" He asked quietly, but there was a slight humour in his voice.

"Shana insisted, it was on me before I even realised what had happened." Legolas replied with a small smile, desperate to raise his spirits as much as possible.

The elf looked down at the human's body, he was face down and a pool of blood had formed beneath him. He bit his lip; he had to do it, but knew Estel wouldn't react well. Leaning down, he turned Carinyc onto his back and unbuckled his belt.

"W-What are you doing?" He heard a shaky voice ask.

He paused, glancing at his wide-eyed companion, and sighed. "We need his weapons. To continue unarmed is suicide."

"I-I can't wield his sword. I just can't." 

"You will not have to unless we have no other choice. But we must take them if we are to stand a chance." Legolas explained calmly.

The younger being nodded, but his silver eyes were reluctant and tearful. He froze, looking to the elf, who was equally still. Someone was nearby. He pulled the belt from the still corpse and followed Estel, who had bolted to the safety of the dense branches of a tall oak tree. They sat in a deadly silence and Legolas watched his friend as he rubbed his temples wearily, trying to clear his swimming mind. They listened as the footsteps grew louder and it was clear that whoever it was, was now where they had been seconds before.

"Oh, Carinyc, you fool." The voice said with a grim humour.

It was Donvan.

Legolas didn't flinch but continued to watch Estel, who was now resting his head on his knees with his hands on the back of his neck. He was tired of this; the elf could see it in his body language, weary of life. Legolas felt so helpless, so guilty. Even if they did manage to get back to Rivendell, he doubted Estel would ever really recover from this.

Donvan knelt beside the body, and traced his fingers over the splinters sticking out of his chest. He smirked and shook his head.

"Nice touch, Estel, nice touch." He laughed coldly. "I think we've underestimated this boy so far, don't you think? You just saw him as an easy target, a plaything." His dark eyes scanned the ground, spotting the signs of the struggle and the sodden tunic at the bottom of the shallow ditch. "It looks like your filthy lust is what cost you your life. Did you get what you craved?" 

The fair elf's eyes flickered at his friend, watching as his drained face became stony and unreadable. The shutters had come down, but Legolas suspected it was only a matter of time before he cracked. He did the same himself; he guarded his emotions from everybody, but it was a very lonely world, and he doubted Estel could cope alone.

"My head tells me I should mourn for you, rue losing one of my companions, but my heart tells me you deserved it. It seems I underestimated him too, he escaped your clutches and he is in danger of escaping mine." He muttered lowly to himself.

They listened in the tree, and heard the human stalk off into the distance. Both visibly relaxed and Estel shifted from his uncomfortable sitting position and moved a little closer to his friend.

"What do we do now?" He asked quietly.

"They will search north, on the assumption that we will seek the direct route home." Legolas replied.

"And we mean not to?"

He shook his head. "We have some unfinished business."

"With Roi and his family? Legolas, they betrayed us but I wish no ill on them. Can we not just leave them and try and escape from this nightmare?" Estel pleaded anxiously.

The blonde elf smiled and couldn't help but feel warmed by the child's still gentle spirit. "Peace, little one. We are not going to hurt them, nor threaten them. I simply wish to claim the horse I was promised."

"You're going to steal their horse?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Borrow. We'll return him when get back to Rivendell."

"If."

"When." Legolas corrected firmly.

* * *       

They shifted in the undergrowth silently, their boots hanging over their shoulders to make their steps lighter. Mist was slowly building around the bases of the trees as dawn drew slowly nearer, and aided their cover. It was a quiet journey in all respects, the forest was silent and Legolas' calculations of their enemy's movements were seemingly correct. Estel was also quiet and simply followed the elf's instructions, nodding at his constant question about if he was alright. Reaching the edge of the woods, they stared up at the looming houses at the top of the hill warily. As Legolas had suspected, the soft glow of candles radiated from the windows; they were still awake. They stayed low and scurried up the slope quickly, their footprints from the hours before were still apparent in the soft earth. Carefully, they moved to the back of the house, and crept into the rickety stable. Legolas swiftly tended the large beast, stroking the silky brown mane tenderly, whispering Elvish soothingly into his ear as Estel readied that saddle. 

The door creaked, and they turned to see Roi and Shana standing a few feet away. He wielded one of his long knives but immediately relaxed a little at the sight of the pair, though he was still clearly wary. 

"I thought you were-" Roi began.

"Dead?" Estel cut him off sharply.

The blond human looked down ashamedly. "I am sorry for my son's actions, he can be beyond foolish at times. But that is no reason to steal from us now."

"We are simply taking you up on your offer. You said we could take him before, surely you owe us him now?" Legolas replied sternly, his distrust surfacing once more. "After all, you almost cost us our lives."

"Of course, Legolas, young Estel, we are truly sorry." Shana apologised solemnly. "Please, come into the house and recuperate, you both look exhausted."

"No, we must move swiftly and we would not risked drawing them close to your family again. But we are grateful of your offer." The elf smiled, soothed by her kindness.

"Actually," Estel spoke up. "Would you mind if I washed? My bandages are filthy and I should clean my wounds."

The red haired woman nodded, her face a picture of concern. "You poor lamb, you are injured further? Come, I will soon fix you up again." She knelt beside him and pushed a lock of ebony hair behind his ear.

He flinched out her reach as subtly as possible. "I thank you, but I would prefer to treat myself."

"You are just a child, how can you-"

"His father is a skilled healer." Legolas explained. "Go, Estel, we need to move quickly."

The grey-eyed human smiled in appreciation of the elf's intervention and disappeared from the stable. Legolas watched him leave ruefully, before meeting the couple's gaze.

"Has something happened to the lad?" Roi asked quietly. "He has always been jumpy, but he seems even more…"

"I don't know." The fair being replied truthfully. "Just give him some space, his spirit is fragile. He needs to be with his family."

"He threatened my son - one of the men who came; he spoke of Estel in a way that chilled my blood. Please do not tell me he has…" She trailed off sadly.

Legolas stared at them, his blue eyes tinged with fear and grief. "We were separated." He began softly. "When I found him again, the man who threatened Kaimin was dead and Estel was… he was there, shaking, bleeding… absolutely terrified. Half of his clothes were torn from his back, his trousers were undone and it was clear that he had been interfered with to some degree. How far it got, I don't know. But I am worried about him, he is bottling it up."

Estel stood in the candlelight, staring blankly at himself in the mirror. The dark wash of filth and mud was gone and he stood in the room naked, his hands moved down to his thighs and he winced. Bruises from where Carinyc had held him were already forming; a sore handprint marked his slim hips and his lip quivered. He hissed at the tender scratches below his bellybutton, grimacing at all the bruises. Leaning into the looking glass, he gazed at his gaunt face, his eyes were red-rimmed and lips swollen. He touched them and felt the revulsion grow inside. He washed his mouth out again and again, but could not get rid of the taste. 

He could still feel Carinyc on him. 

His tongue against his. 

His hands caressing in his skin. 

His rough groping. 

There was a love bite on his neck. Running his quivering fingers over it, he cringed and rubbed it violently, desperately trying to make it disappear.

Pulling his trousers back on gingerly, he did up the button even though it scraped against the sickening scratches. He looked back in the mirror and the repulsion grew until he could no longer look at himself. His reflection disgusted him. His cheeks burnt with shame and he wrapped his arms around his body, trying to comfort himself. It wasn't working. Estel closed his eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks. He felt so humiliated. It ran through his head again and again, the fear, his touches, the feelings heightening each time. 

The sudden grasp around his hips terrified him, his eyes launching open. He spun around and lashed out instinctively, his heart thrashing in his chest. He panted and looked to the ground, his eyes widening when he saw the small form of Yolanda crying on the floor. Staring at her in horror, he dropped to his knees beside her.

"Oh, by the Valar, I'm sorry." He gibbered. "You scared me. Yolanda, forgive me."

Kaimin burst in to see the scene before his eyes. Anger bubbled inside and he pulled Estel roughly away from her, shoving him to the floor. 

"You think you can hurt my little sister?" He growled angrily, overpowering Estel, pinning down his arms.

"It was an accident!" He gasped apologetically. "I'm sorry, she startled me. Get off me!" 

"What kind of person hits out at a child?" Kaimin asked.

Estel felt sick. He couldn't move. Kaimin was too strong. He kicked out and writhed under his grasp but couldn't break free. Panic rose within him. Not again. His heart thumped in his chest. Lungs screaming.

"Get off me!" He screamed anxiously.

The blond teenager looked down at him with alarm, but held him down tightly. The younger human closed his eyes, tears of horror streaming down his face. He began muttering under his breath, words firing so quickly that Kaimin didn't understand. Memories flashed before his eyes. This wasn't happening.

"Don't do this!" 

The trio froze. Estel's terrified shrieks echoed through the house. Legolas tore up the stairs before the others could even blink. His feet pounded against the wooden steps as he heard another panicked squeal. Storming into the small room, he grabbed hold of Kaimin's collar and swung him backwards, slamming him into the wall. He pulled out Carinyc's small knife and held it close to the shocked boy's face, venom running through his veins, eyes glowering. 

"If you ever do that again, I will cut your throat." He spat furiously.

Flicking the blade back into his belt, the elf let go of him and turned back to his friend. Estel lay on his side, trembling, trying to calm himself. Tears streaked across his face, his silver eyes squeezed tightly shut. Curled into a foetal position, his hands clamped over his eyes, his ragged breaths making his battered body shake even further. 

"Don't do this. Don't do this. Don't do this." He muttered so quietly that only Legolas could hear him.

The elf watched him and knelt beside the hysterical youth. He didn't know what to do. He was afraid to touch him in case it scared him even more. The sight before him broke his heart.  

 "Don't do this. Don't do this. Don't do this. Don't do this." Estel continued to mumble, a cold sweat forming on his newly bandaged body. 

Roi and Shana watched in dismay, and Legolas waved them out delicately. They both nodded and ushered their weeping daughter out of the room, shutting the door behind them. The fair being ran his hand through his hair, and took a deep breath. He ran his hand softly along his arm, thankful that Estel didn't seem to flinch at his touch.

Whispering soothingly in Elvish, he rested his hand on his friend's head, stroking his temples tenderly until he felt Estel relax a little.

"Peace, little one." He murmured. "You are safe. I won't let any harm come to you.  Calm down, you are safe. It is over."

The dark haired boy blinked his eyes open a little, tears still trickling down his cheeks. He sat up, but didn't move from Legolas' grasp. Staring at him, his eyes bloodshot and swollen. Estel wiped his face, ashamed of his reaction, but met the elf's gaze once more.

"I cannot take this." He whispered. "I cannot take feeling like this." 

He rested his head against Legolas' chest, his action surprising the elf. He could tell how frightened his friend was, and he quickly snaked his arms around him, kissing the top of his head. The boy's shaky breaths were hot against the elf's pale skin, and his tears soaked into his thin shirt. Legolas closed his eyes, murmuring peacefully as Estel sobbed uncontrollably.

This had to end.        

TBC…

Look! No cliffie! I'm kidding, the rest of the chapter is below the review replies.

Anime Elvengirl – Oh, but that precisely why I put so much suspense in my stories – physical torture is apparently illegal, so I get my kicks this way. ;-)

Lily the Mad Scientist – Mwahahahaha! Together, we shall rule the world! Well… not together obviously, that would ruin the whole vicious dictator thing, but everyone needs a right hand (left hand, I will burn all the righties at the stake) man. Woo, I think I'm high on Vix cold medicine…

Amanda McDonald – Aaw, thank you. Elrond will pop by when I'm ready, but will Legolas do in the mean time? He's not a pretty as Elrond, but well, he's pretty enough.

Grumpy – Yeah, I thought it was divine justice that Estel killed him. It wasn't really the plan, but I just went with it. Hehe, I like my Aragorn, you should pop down to a local Odeon, they've got loads of LotR Pepsi stuff, I want a legless Legless to go with my legless Aragorn now!

Darkphoenix – Ah, my cliffies are doing the job then ;-) Thank you, this criminal lark is a bit of a giggle. I was contemplating nabbing a big Gandalf from Blockbuster, but it's a maze to get out so I'd have to leap through the window, and as tempting as it is, death by Gandalf doesn't really appeal…

Leggylover03 – Hey, looks like there is a God. *Scratches off one thing Alice is determined to prove true or false before she dies* There are about five chapters left, so perhaps possibly if I don't change this to AU (I'm sick and grumpy so it's a distinct possibility) Imladris may come into the equation, but I ain't promising nuffin.

Jadelyn Rashwe – If you're not American, then you should be ashamed of yourself for using the term 'Geez'! 

Arayelle Lynn – Of course I like torturing you, it's a giggle. Trust me, you wouldn't wanna read my mind, it's a scary, and rather confusing place to be, although Orli and Mr J Depp are always on my mind, so you can stop off there for light refreshments. Help is always at hand, buy my straight jacket and think of sheep…

Lady Melime – Temper?! Me?! Why you little… breathe, count to ten Alice… 1..2..3..4..5..6..7..8..9…Aargh, it's not working! Kidding, I don't have a temper really, just a strange sense of humour, and well, yeah. 

Alex, Mistress of Random Rabies-Carrying Rodents – Nope, only you. My friends in I-raq have grenades and whatnot, they can beat your little overgrown rats any day of the week, except Tuesday s, it's their day off.

Maranwe1 – Yes, I am mean, but I am also nice from time to time. Do you see Donvan? Nope. Cos Alice is a lovely lady. Do you see a cliffy? Nope. Cos Alice couldn't think of one at the time. Yup. Oh, wait, apparently I'm sadistic if I'm nice, I just can't win can I? Right, cliffies all the way and everyone's going to die because of YOU.

Dragonfly – Quite possibly. You only tore your hair out because you are in fact a drama queen. It's good for the soul, but just for you, I neglected to include one this week. Mainly because the though of hair being ripped from scalps gives me the willies.

Nilbrethiliel – Do you know it took me 5 minutes to spell your name correctly in my present state?! *Rubs brain uncomfortably* Aaw, your review was so lovely! I'm sorry (but also glad) to put you in that position, cos it did the same to me, it was so emotionally draining to write and at least I know it affected someone. Aaw, I like you. I also own you… ooh, what to do with you? Mmm, the possibilities (in a non-sexual way!) Your comment about the scene being a masterpiece made me so chuffed that I went round with this big grin all day and scared my family!

Simbelmyn – Happiness? What is this happiness you speak of? Never heard of it, mwahahahahahaha. 

Tithen Min – Go on then, Nuke me, I dare ya! I stole a nuclear bunker and found the weapons of mass destruction underneath a Merry-Go-Round! You can't kill me, I'll outlive the cockroaches! I don't get Irish politics, but if you want Bertie strung up, then so be it. I'll stick Madonna and Ms Spears up there too. When I find Tahoe, I'll poke you repeatedly with a biro, that'll show you!  

Betcha looked didn't ya! Hehe, you'll have to wait til next week.


	14. mist on the moors

Sorry guys, this really wasn't meant to happen. I keep being late with my posts for some reason or another. To be honest I'm just really unhappy with this chapter, it's not working for some reason, so I apologise if it is utter shit. I'll leave it as that, but the next chapter will be better (and on time) I promise. Anyone watching the England football match on Sunday, look out for me, I'll be the random girl trying to kidnap David Beckham, being followed by a rather alarming looking *ducks from her flying fist* sister-figure…

Chapter Fourteen: Mist on the Moors 

The gentle haze of dawn shifted over the hills, the mist gathering like hungry dogs to fresh kill. It was an eerie hour, the battle between day and night leaving the land engulfed in an unsettling shadow. Riding through the morning fog in a wary silence, listening out for the slightest whisper in the long grass or the nearby tree, the house of Roiderick and his family disappeared from their view. It had been an uncomfortable farewell; promises of the swift return of their horse, Bess, whom both Legolas and Estel considered to have a ridiculous name, but was nevertheless a sturdy beast, bids of all the luck in the world and a safe return had been spoken with a constant rueful stare from the two adults. Estel had picked up on it and was utterly mortified. He was also furious with his friend though he did not show it, but Legolas could tell and was equally angry with himself. He had not meant to speak of it to strangers, or even to anyone, but it had slipped out in a momentary weakness.

They rode around the forest, still under the cover of a sluggish, murky dawn. The cheerful chirping of the waking birds did not match the mood between the pair, they were tense and nervous and their silence suited both. Estel stared blankly at the bow hanging on the elf's back, slipping into his own thoughts. He was drained in every sense, his whole body ached with exhaustion and his head had finally stopped spinning with vicious memories, grinding to an unsettling, weary blur. He yawned, but he was not tired. He doubted whether he would ever sleep again. A sudden realisation they had stopped snapped him back. Estel immediately knew why, he could feel the same unease as his friend did. 

They were being tracked.

"Hold on." Legolas whispered. "We'll try and outrun them."

The young human slinked his hands on the fair elf's hips and they sped along the plains, the cool wind gusting through their hair. Estel bit his lip; the whole of his lower body was in agony from the rough path the horse took. The bruises on his thighs throbbed painfully and his heart grew heavy; Bess was reasonably fast but it was clear that she was not used to galloping at this speed. He glanced behind and saw the remaining three assassins in pursuit, gaining slowly on them. Grudoc was surprisingly the best rider and led the pack, his ugly podgy face in clear view.

"Estel, use your bow and take out Grudoc while he's in range." The elf instructed.

"Does your memory deceive you? I would have more chance of sprouting wings from the side of my head and flying to Imladris, than I would killing him with my aim!" He hissed seriously.

"Fine," Legolas mumbled. "Take the reins."

"What?" 

"Just take the reins." 

Leaning forward so that he was almost resting against the elf, he fumbled and managed to grasp the leather between his fingers. He couldn't see where they were going, trusting Bess to guide them safely along. Legolas pulled an arrow out and turned to look backwards. Closing one eye, he took a deep breath. Everything around him became a blur as he focussed on his target. A swift release and the slim arrow whistled through the air. It thumped into Grudoc's chest and he fell from his horse and landed on the sparse grassland with a sickening thud. The elf watched him land and knew he was dead; his accuracy with the bow had not diminished over the past harrowing fortnight.

They continued to race along the dry plain. There was barely a tree in sight and the wind bellowed down from the Misty Mountains in the east. Their grim shadow stood over the couple as they sped north. The blond elf took Bess' reins back and he leant closer, urging her on faster. There was a large, but relatively light, sparse woodland a little further north, and it became clear that it was a sprint to the relative cover of the trees. An arrow fizzled narrowly wide of them and Legolas felt his heart skip a beat. They repeated their exchange of reins and Legolas watched as Donvan readied another missile for them. Responding, the elf shot at him at the blink of an eye, it whirled like a rocket and embedded itself in the human's thigh. He roared in pain and slowed down slightly as he gathered his bearings once more. A little smile crept across the fair being's face as he watched his foes struggle now they were in a position to fight back, but he was annoyed that he had not slain him as he had the other bulky human.

Turning his attention to the pursuer who had caused him the most personal injury and steadied himself once. Raenir glowered, his deep hazel eyes snarling with hatred and bitter revenge at his fallen comrades. Memories of his stomach churning taunts about Carinyc's lust for his young companion in the early days of their capture boiled the blood in his veins and his determination to punish them grew to unimaginable levels. The vicious beatings he had suffered at Raenir's hands were also fresh in his mind. Legolas' face hardened, his eyes darkening with revulsion. He would never feel more satisfaction at killing one man than if it had been Carinyc himself. Raising his bow, he felt his heart thump. This was it. The last real obstacle stopping them from returning to Rivendell, Donvan was injured and was a simple target to pick off now. All the sound around him muted, only the stretching fibres twanging quietly were now audible.    

Bess suddenly bucked, a shrill neigh filling their ears as they rose higher. They went crashing to the ground and Legolas' arrow wandered aimlessly high in the morning sky. The elf fell particularly awkwardly, landing on top of Estel. His head hit the ground with a dull thud and his body went limp. The young boy groaned sorely, noticing Donvan's arrow in the horse's hide that had caused their downfall. Squirming from the uncomfortable situation underneath his friend, his close proximity too much for him to cope with, he glanced back to see Raenir drawing nearer, a smug grin of triumph on his gruff face. Estel felt his hands shaking, and his shook the fair elf's shoulder frantically, but it was no use. He had taken a nasty blow to the head and he wouldn't wake for some time. The fear grew inside his heart and he looked between the two desperately. What should he do? He couldn't leave Legolas. He shook the elf once more, but there was no response. 

"Come on, Legolas! Wake up!" He hissed hysterically.

Estel stumbled back a little, watching as Raenir closed in the last few yards, his gaze shifted to Donvan, who had dismounted and was limping slowly toward him. His heart was thumping so hard and fast in his chest that he thought it would burst. He stood, frozen to the spot again, just like it had been in the very beginning. His grey eyes flickered toward the assassin once more, to see him standing equally still. His bow was raised.

Their eyes met. The darkest brown against the softest silver. His fingers released and the arrow whizzed toward him. With a panicked squeal, he leapt out of the way, falling to the ground on his stomach. A sudden grip on his ankle caught him off guard and he was dragged backwards. Spinning onto his back, he saw Raenir's stony expression looking down at him. Terror raced through his veins and his breath caught in his throat. 

"You killed my friends." He growled, and wrapped his large fingers around the boy's neck.

"Get off me!" He managed to choke out.

"Brings back bad memories, does it? I can still smell him on you." He smiled.

Estel froze. His bow dug into him from underneath and his fingers dug into the soil.

"Maybe I should finish what he started… in memory of a life you snuffed out." Raenir whispered threateningly. 

His eyes widened, tears already threatening to fall. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and a cold sweat formed. This wasn't happening.

"Forgive me, Legolas." He murmured.

He thrashed his legs as hard as he could, kicking Raenir hard in the legs and the stomach. Panting in a hysterical panic, he hit out and connected with his nose, the blood spattering everywhere. The startled human fell away and he scrambled free, sprinting as fast as he could away. Glancing back, he saw Raenir climbing to his feet to give chase. His eyes fell ruefully on his unconscious friend and he quickly turned away. Guilt hung heavy in his heart but he had to get away. He couldn't go through it again. 

Raenir sped after him, his long legs helping him gain on the terrified child. Blood ran down his face and he drew his sword, sensing the kill was close. Estel ducked to the left. Falling to his knees, he scrambled under the dead thorns of an old hedge. They scratched his skin and tore his clothes but he struggled through them relentlessly. The shrubs were thick and he only just managed to pull his foot out of the man's reach. The dark haired man frowned and slashed at the dense thicket, his blade cutting through the brittle wood easily. 

The young boy clambered along on his knees, his black curls falling over his face. The sword ripped through and swept inches from Estel's ear. He squealed and jumped to his feet as Raenir pushed his way past the severed bushes. He spun and tore away, moving as fast as his legs could possibly go. His heart leapt into his throat as his angry pursuer cried out after him. Estel leapt over a small row of greying plants that had clearly perished in the summer drought, and ducked under the low hanging saplings. 

Raenir was close behind, the sound of his knife slicing everything in his path. The dawn mist still hovered low on the field, and visibility reduced as they drew closer to the Bruinen that lay beyond the spare woodland. Estel continued his sprint, his heart thudding and eyes watering. This field felt as if it went on for miles. 

An unseen branch caught his face and cut into his throat. He shrieked at the sudden pain, stumbling but managing to stay on his feet. They chase continued for at least another five minutes of both humans darting and squeezing through the hostile environment, the mist thickened further and left them in an unnerving haze. Pushing his way past what he thought was the other side of the abandoned field, Raenir stopped in his tracks. Estel was nowhere to be seen. 

He frowned and took a few steps into the sparse woodland. The river ran a few yards away and was the only sound amongst the few trees surrounding him. Glancing around the tree trunks and up into the thin branches, his confused scowl deepened. Pacing around the area, he could still find no sign of his prey. Raenir kicked out at the long grass with frustration and growled angrily.

"Fine!" He yelled. "I shall just have to have my fun with your friend. Make him squeal instead of you for once!" 

He stalked away irritably, back toward the two figures he could see in the distance. 

Donvan knelt over the unconscious elf, tightening the bonds around his hands and ankles. Sitting back down, he turned his attention to his injured leg, wincing as he pulled Legolas' arrow from his thigh. Glancing up, he raised his sword warily at the sound of approaching footsteps. He spotted Raenir emerging through the mist and relaxed.

"Is he dead?" Donvan asked flatly.

"I lost him." The other human replied. "He'll be back though, he wouldn't leave his precious elf behind."

"No?" He glared furiously. "You do not think him fleeing was a good indication of his future actions?"

"He stayed with him when we first captured them." Raenir reasoned.

"And do you think he is in the same state of mind now as he was in the beginning?" Donvan's eyes glowered angrily. "You fool! That boy is absolutely terrified and you can thank your depraved little friend for that! It wouldn't surprise me if is halfway to his home by now."

The newly returned human frowned, his face hardening. "He will come for his friend."

"I cannot take the risk of him not doing what you are so sure of. Keep the firstborn alive until I return with the body of his friend." He growled, limping into the distance.         

TBC…

See what I mean? Awful wasn't it. Sorry, next chapter will be better.

Snow_Glory – I make no guarantees… He may be okay, but let's remember who's writing this shall we? Me. And admittedly I'm not very nice.

Nib…err Nilth… umm…Nilbahwhocares – Yes, I am evil. I'm glad I'm taking you on a roller coaster (or Ferris Wheel – I'm still trying to get over the blinding terror of going on one of those things) and I hope that I'm capturing the emotion of Estel's situation because I think getting it wrong would be an insult to everyone who's suffered similar traumas.

Mannie – Hehe, I liked your review, blunt but lovely! I'm not an author, I will be one day, I guarantee it, even if I have to bribe the publisher.

Tithen Min – You: Caffeine rush, me: chocolate high. With people like us in the world, who needs sane, rational folks, we can make the world a better place. Woo, that made no sense whatsoever.

Jadelyn Rashwe – Ah, you're Australian. That explains a lot. ;)

Leggylover03 – Aah, the never-ending question of Elrond's whereabouts. I hear he's cut his hair, bought a suit and is busy in some random and frankly confusing thing called the Matrix. 

Dragonfly – No! No baldness. I have no insurance for that. Elrond is busy dammit! His cute ass is donning a suit and doing the whole multiplying thing, you never know, there could be a thousand Elronds by the time this fic is finished.

TigerLily713 – I could be calling on your experience in this field, if that's okay with you. I'm just determined to get this right.

Alex mistress of dirty pre-roadkill – Sorry, I laughed. Pinecones, eh? Have you genetically modified your rodents now? No worries, I've just got China on board, so I'll meet you outside the White House on Thursday and we'll sort this out once and for all! I'll let the psycho freak comment pass, because well, I'll justify Bush and his poodle's WMD claims and we'll see who's name-calling at the end!

Lady Melime – Hunt me down, go on! You couldn't find me if I gave you my address and a painted my house neon pink. I will NOT repeat after you, because 1) I'm not 10, and 2) Cliffies are GOOD! Good for the heart, soothing for the soul.

Maranwe1 – Look, fate and me go back years, we went to school together, so of course we're going to conspire with one another. Don't take it personally. Make a prediction, and I'll change the whole plot so that you're right, how does that sound?

Grumpy – Thank you, the hangover and sneezes seem to be subsiding, but I am still evil, so killing everyone off is still a distinct possibility. I'll ransom Season 6 onwards of ER (DVD only please) a Mars Bar and Orlando Bloom, for the guaranteed survival of all of our favourite characters, deal?

TrinityTheSheDevil – Oooh, how can I ever repay you?! You sent the beautiful Elrond to me and now I've got him chained to my bed…ahem…put that camera away! That's got to be illegal. Oh, and I like the 'evil wench' tag, it's got a nice ring to it.

Crystal-chan – Estel's good sword skills aren't very useful when he doesn't possess a sword. Oh wait, now he does… classify that as a hint if you will, but predicting what will happen doesn't usually produce results (just ask Maranwe1)

Silvertoekee – Do you ever really get over it? I doubt it, I think you just move on. As mentioned above, Elrond is busy with his alter-ego, he'll be around soon enough.

Ryoko Lasgalen - *narrows eyes* You. You gave me this beastly monstrosity of an illness! You will suffer the consequences! My 15-stone Rugby player from Grimsby will break your head, and then I'll bomb Wales. Mwahahahahahaha. A lesson to you all, do not make Alice ill. 


	15. the turn of the tide?

Woo, I actually finished on time (I'd only written 300 words by this morning) and managed to watch a rugby semi-final, two football play-offs and pop idol. I'm so proud of myself I might do a dance, but hell, I'm tired now and considering I have to get up at 6:00am, I think preservation of energy is a better bet. Mmm… in 24 hours David Beckham will be locked in my cupboard. Mwahahahahahaha. Either that, or I'll be sitting sheepishly in a prison cell (they actually have them at Old Trafford – snazzy!) Oh, and look out for me on Thursday, as I'll probably be getting shot by Bush's henchmen because a) they're gun-toting twats under the orders of the unelected president of the United States to shoot to kill any possible terror threats, and b) I have a big mouth that'll simply offend them and so they'll shoot me as they're gun-toting…see above. I'll be the one on the ground with a hole in the head with a random Arab girl standing over me screaming 'I'll shoot you with my rifle.' in a dodgy Texan accent. What fun! 

Chapter Fifteen: The Turn of the Tide?   

The Bruinen rumbled along through the mist, the icy water battering against the high bank. It flowed swiftly, but was nowhere near the overwhelming torrent it was further upstream. The riverbank seemed to be as deceptive as this whole land was; it overhung by over a foot, where the water drifted along, sheltered from the sun's gaze. 

His teeth chattered. His numb fingers clung to the stony earth above him, steadying his stiff body against the current that swept at his feet. His eyes were closed so tightly it hurt. The water chilled his blood and attacked his limbs but he dared not move. His chest heaved with terrified, panicked breaths, lips trembling. Tears streaked down his cheeks, burning his skin like hot coal. The river rippled against his chin, sometimes flowing over his nose, causing him to choke. 

The minutes passed slowly, and Estel began to lose feeling in his toes, but he did not move. He didn't want to move. No one would find him here. He listened intently at each and every sound, though the rush of the water drowned much of it out. Raenir had gone. He had heard him walk away. But still he could not bring himself to emerge. 

It could be a trick. He could be anywhere, he thought to himself. 

Waiting. 

His stomach twisted in a knot. Waiting to finish what Carinyc started. Just thinking about those words made him shudder. But what if he wasn't there? What if he was doing what he had said? What if Raenir was torturing Legolas right now? A pang of guilt stabbed in his stomach. He should have stayed and fought. What if he was already dead?

He had to help him.

But he didn't want to move. He was safe here. He didn't care if he froze to death. Opening his eyes slowly, the bright glare of the surface water hurt his eyes. The sun had risen and banished the stifling mist over the past hour. His whole body ached like never before and he bit his lip, trying desperately to stop his teeth chattering. Pushing his way back into the open, he clung onto the overhanging bank desperately, his frozen fingers struggling to grip onto the flailing reeds. He peered over the edge, eyes darting around for any sign of Raenir. There was no movement in the scattered vegetation and only the lonely twitters of a few birds pierced the muted fields. 

Clambering his shaking arms over the side, he tried to pull himself out of the icy clutches of the Bruinen, but his whole body felt like lead and he quickly slipped back in. Gasping, he clung on to the reeds and dug his boots into the river wall. His sopping clothes weighed him down so much he thought his cloak would strangle him and he dug his hands into the soft earth, dragging his exhausted body back onto the long grass. 

He lay there, panting, trying to catch his breath again. He had no idea it would be so difficult just to get back onto land and was now drained, soaking and frozen. He could barely feel his legs and he wearily sat up, pulling his waterlogged boots off, letting the water stream from the leather. Rubbing some feeling into his numb feet, Estel sighed uncomfortably as the cold enveloped him and the unwelcome but familiar stabbing sensation attacked his senses. Water dribbled down his nose and he wiped the moisture from his face, switching his attention to his weapons. 

Soon, he had wringed out all that he could, but still cut a bedraggled sight; his damp locks tied into a makeshift bun with a reed, his clothes crumpled and dripping, boots still lying upside down on the long straggly grass. Estel shivered as the biting cold continued to cripple his hands, it had been over an hour since he had even felt the tips of his fingers and he was struggling to concentrate his swimming mind. 

The slightest brush of a nearby bush caught his attention. 

Estel's eyes scanned the silent trees and spotted a shadow lurking in the distance. He felt the panic rise in him again and he scurried to the relative cover of a few withering bushes.

* * *

Raenir stared at the elf with a grim satisfaction and tightened the bonds around his wrists, knowing that Legolas was slowly coming to his senses again as the pain of the way he had been strung up set in. A thick rope wrapped around the branch of a lone tree held the fair being just above kneeling height for maximum discomfort. 

The morning sunshine filtered down through the wispy clouds but failed to warm the chilly autumn conditions. Legolas stirred a little, his head pounding from the fall. The human slapped his face to bring him round and his eyes reluctantly opened. He winced, and blinked at the harsh daylight attacking his vision. Struggling to find his bearings, he closed his eyes again.

The dark haired human frowned. "No, no, wake up, elf." He urged melodically, patting his cheeks roughly.

He didn't respond and simply closed his eyes tighter as he tried to slow his spinning head down.

Raenir grunted with frustration and pulled out his whip, cracking it across the elf's lower back. Legolas' eyes flew open at the sudden flash of pain and he hissed involuntarily. The human's smug face came into view and he grimaced.

"What an attractive sight to greet me." He said flatly.

His dark eyes glinted and he laughed humourlessly. "You are in no position to insult me." 

Legolas glanced up at his restraints and sighed. "Then release me and I will insult you in a more dignified posture if you wish."

"It is remarkable that you can still laugh after what has happened."

"I am an upbeat sort of fellow; it is one of my many virtues. My capture will not stop me mocking the joke that you are." The elf spat, ignoring the agony of his suspension.

A bemused smirk crept across the man's face. "I am not talking about your inevitable seizure."

Legolas snorted with a sense of annoyance, and eventually met the human's gaze. "Then what do you speak of?"

"Your little friend's death."

He didn't flinch, but a streak of alarm rippled through his veins. His face darkened and his jaw clenched tensely. 

"You lie." He replied firmly.

Raenir's smile grew wider. "How can you be sure?"

"Because I am still alive. If you had killed him, then you would have killed me and been on your way. But I am here, staring at your repugnant face and Estel is nowhere to be seen." He explained matter-of-factly, but he wasn't entirely convinced of his argument.

"And you are not angry that he left you to die?"

Relief soothed his aching limbs. "I would have him run all the way home without looking back, than die trying to save me. He knows I can take care of myself."

The craggy human shifted around the elf, and he grabbed his chin violently, forcing him to look up at him. His hand slid up to his cheeks and tightened his grip so that his dirty fingernails sank into Legolas' fair skin and leant in close.

"And you would consider this as taking care of yourself?" He whispered threateningly.

The blond figure did not reply, looking down at the ground with a slight smile. His head still pounded and his body ached terribly, but in his heart he knew Estel was still alive and that helped numb the pain and kept his spirits high.

"Tell me," He began, raising his head once more. "Why is a wounded man hunting for your target and the fittest one guarding me? Are you so useless that you cannot track and kill a scared, not to mention wounded, child?"

He scowled and looked away, his greasy locks ruffling in the strengthening breeze.

"And why exactly were you and your two late companions even drafted for this task? You have done nothing but aid our survival. Frankly, I should thank, rather than hate you." 

Raenir glowered and spun around. "Speak again and beat you until you scream for mercy."

Legolas laughed and incensed the human further. With a swift motion, his whip crackled through the air and slapped against the elf's stomach viciously. He didn't blink, though the searing flash of agony almost took his breath away. He looked up at him, eyes expressionless. He growled and wrapped the leather cord across his shoulder blades, and again across the back of his neck. His long blonde hair flew across his face and impeded his view.

Another strike. 

Legolas made no sound, simply easing his mind away from reality. He breathed calmly and closed his eyes. The ebony haired man grew angrier as each blow was met with no reaction. He paused, catching his breath from his relentless brutality, and glanced down at the elf's legs trailing behind his suspended body. Raenir stamped as hard as he could on the back of his calves, wrenching his body down but the rope allowed no leeway and so strained his arms even more. He winced, but still remained silent.

Stalking around him, he stopped and stood in front of the composed being. His irate glare deepened and kicked Legolas in the stomach. 

Again. 

Again. 

The elf coughed painfully but stopped himself from crying out, trying to catch his breath again. The human glowered and struck him across the face. 

Legolas snickered.

Lifting his weary gaze, he smirked at the furious human.

"You can't break me." He announced, his voice strained from the blows to his stomach. 

Raenir clenched his jaw, his chest heaving. 

"I'm not afraid of you, Raenir."

"You should be." He growled.

The fair creature raised an eyebrow. "You have given me no reason to be."

He clenched his fist; the cocky attitude of Legolas had taken him by surprise and was infuriating him. He glanced around his surroundings, looking out for any sign of his companion returning.

"No sign of your better half?" He taunted.

"Shut your mouth, you filthy little animal." Raenir snarled.

"He's probably dead…" 

Legolas grinned, watching the human running his fingers through his messy hair, sensing how edgy he was becoming.

"Estel is an excellent swordsman, he'll catch your friend off guard and kill him."

"Be silent or I'll slit your throat." 

"Do you know what? I can feel my kin drawing closer. Just think, the whole of Rivendell empty, all searching for the men who abducted Lord Elrond's son. The Dúnedain out in force to save their future Chieftain." Legolas stifled his laughter deliberately vociferously. "I fear for you. We are not a people to forgive easily, nor treat prisoners with an ounce of compassion."

* * *

His black boots slowly padded the ground, the soles grazing the ragged, unkempt strands of weed-ridden grass. He paused, noticing the abandoned pair of shoes at the riverside and shifted his gaze around the overgrown vegetation. Donvan stalked over to the bank and knelt beside them, picking the smaller boots up by the laces and tossing them away. His fingers traced the soft waterlogged ground and a smile crept across his face.

"Impressive." He mused. "You have the art of eluding your attackers down to a tee, young Estel."

He leant over the edge and checked the vacant space beneath the overhang.

"And smart enough to know when to move on."

Climbing to his feet he turned away from the crashing torrent and scanned the land. Taking a few steps forward, his eyes narrowed. He could hear the sound of crunching leaves to the left. Slowly, he moved into the patchy woodland, the gentle chorus of the birds and rasping of the crickets making it hard to listen out for any more of Estel's movements.                                                   

A branch snapped behind him and he spun around, his eyes straining to spot him. Edging forward, he drew his sword. Donvan frowned, and pushed aside a wiry shrub. The loud screech of a crow made him jump but he quickly regained his composure. 

His gaze trailed around the vacant trees, the dappled sunlight squeezing through the golden leaves that still remained in a few of the trees. The wind whispered amongst the skeletal branches, whistling and hissing around the lone human.

Estel watched him silently, his heart beating hard. He was shivering uncontrollably; water from his bound hair still dribbled uncomfortably down his face. He hadn't counted on Donvan tracking him, but certainly preferred to tackle the two men separately. His hands throbbed painfully as feeling slowly returned to them, but it hurt too much to grip the fishing knife he now used as a sword and so had wrapped another thing he had to carry around his wrist rather than holding it. The young human's teeth rattled and his damp clothes were really beginning to irritate his skin, and he struggled to stop himself scratching. 

The wet clothes clung to his sore legs, aggravating the cuts and grating against the agonizing bruises that littered the lower half his body. He shifted awkwardly, wincing and letting out a gentle gasp. He froze and glanced over at the assassin. 

He was staring right at him.

Donvan gazed intently at the fallen log, eyes narrowing and a grim smile creeping across his face. He pulled out his bow and prepared an arrow, feet crunching against the tiny twigs as he ambled toward the hiding child. Estel suddenly burst out, scurrying away, darting past a few young saplings. He watched him, studying his path as he aimed. 

Shift to the left. 

Duck to the right.

Take aim.

Fire.

The missile rippled past the branches, its path straight at the sprinting human. He leapt to the ground at the last second and the arrow whistled harmlessly over Estel. 

He rolled along the uneven ground, the lumps and bumps digging into his injured body agonizingly. Stumbling back to his feet, Estel tore deeper into the woods, the trees becoming denser and providing more cover. Another arrow fizzed too close for comfort and he listened as Donvan chased him, the broad man's boots thumping against the forest floor. Estel cursed his lapse and brushed under the low branches of a willow. He padded along the damp ground, and he tried desperately to ignore the searing pain of his semi-numb feet as they stepped on fallen twigs and jagged stones. He was faster than Donvan and lighter on his toes. He knew that. Scampering swiftly to a shadier glade, he found some respite under the cover a sprawling mound of reeds and rocks and tried to compose himself.

The older human slowed down, bow clasped tightly in his hand, arriving in the small glade thirty seconds or so later. He spun around and his eyes scanned the area. Where was he? This part of the woods was much darker, but not nearly as thick as the last they had been in. A warm orangey glow swathed over the tiny clearing, and he stood in silence, waiting for the slightest movement of his target. 

Donvan snapped his head to the right at the lightest sound.

Glancing behind at another rustle, he frowned.

"You cannot escape me, Estel." Donvan said softly.

"I'm not trying to." Came the reply.

He turned, a satisfied grin lighting up his dishevelled bearded face. Stepping to the side, his eyes setting on the toe of Estel's boot.

"And you just gave away your position." He murmured, firing the arrow ruthlessly at it. 

It tore through the material and embedded itself but there was no movement.

"How your memory deceives you… didn't you find my discarded boots just a short while ago?" 

Donvan spun around to see Estel standing almost twenty feet away, arrow drawn and ready. His face fixed in a stony glare, his silver eyes emotionless.

"I've seen your aim, as if you could hit me from there." He growled and quickly drew his own arrow.

He froze.

His eyes trailed down to his chest and he saw the slim body of the missile sprouting from his chest. 

Estel watched as his enemy slumped to the ground, an arrow to the heart claiming his last breath. The young human sighed exhaustedly and lurched toward his still form. Staring down at Donvan, his grey-flecked hair spread across the moss covered ground.

"Maybe I should get everyone to say that before I shoot." He muttered and limped uncomfortably away, not looking back.

TBC…             

Alex mistress of excessively furry cat food – Northern hemisphere? Pah. My warships are situated all around Europe with my illegal immigrants and haven't encountered any resistance. Your rodents are lazy. Or blind. Actually, they are in fact squirrels and can't use warheads. Oh, and on the name calling front, I hardly think you're up to it considering your excessive use of the term 'freak'. ;-)

Crystal-chan - *Returns from hospital after being treated for concussion* Err… thanks for the can in the side of the head. I'm glad it hit me and not Estel, because unless courage comes in the form of severe bruising these days, I doubt it would've helped. Hmm… maybe you're the enemy in disguise? *Lets rabid fangirls catch crystal-chan's scent and then lets them off their leashes* Mwahahahaha, its all in the name of shits and giggles!

Arayelle Lynn – Pah. The last chapter was worse than I thought, hopefully this one made up for it. Yeah, I probably would have run away too, actually I would have run right at the beginning, I'm probably not the best person to be with in a tight spot!

Luinthien – Oo-er! Maybe I should get some health insurance on this thing, can't you swap 'stomach ache' for 'mental instability' and save me a little money on my premiums?! Thanks, that's a great boost, hopefully the suspense will continue to torment you for a few chapters yet. J 

Nelsonia – Keep this on the quiet, but there was something to the last thing Legless said… that's all I'll say. Shhhh!

Leggylover03 – It wasn't much of a cliffie! To be fair, I've been quite kind on that front recently, but woo, I've got a doozie lined up for next week! I can feel the tension building already. Hehe *rubs hands together gleefully* Look, I would pull Elrond from the Matrix if the whole thing didn't confuse me to the point of unconsciousness!

Silvertoekee – Of course Estel will try and help his friend, no matter how scared he is, in his heart he couldn't really abandon his friend. Or will he? I know, it's an annoying habit of mine to do that.

Grumpy – Ah, addiction, it's a long slippery slope to crashing and burning, where you'll read any form of crappy fiction, even tea-time short stories in shitty cheap woman's magazines! Save yourself! But don't go cold turkey, you'll just relapse and end up sitting in a foetal position reading Jilly Cooper novels all day. I have no idea where that came from.

Darkphoenix – Oi, no using lines from irritating McDonalds adverts! Ooh, they drive me insane… The twins are currently rescuing Elrond from the puzzling minefields that we call 'the Matrix' I thought they'd have more luck because they're elves and therefore smarter, so the baffling plotline shouldn't disturb them. Well, that's the plan anyway. Hehe, I have tickets, but at least you don't have to get up so early to catch the coach, so that's something.

Dragonfly – Ah, Legolas' yoga classes finally became useful. He should be a gymnast. He would get all his fine looking selves down to Middle Earth if the plotline hadn't given him a migraine. Give him some aspirin and he'll soon be on his way.

Maranwe1 – Seeing as though you read all my other replies, then you'll know that I've seen #3. Hugo doesn't look insane, the plot just made him a little hysterical. See what I mean about the last chapter being shit, I obviously didn't make important things clear. Grr… 

Tithen Min – I'm worried they allow such random ladies to treat people in hospitals! I smell malpractice lawsuits *ducks from flying syringe* When I get shot on Thursday, I want you to treat me, okay? That's the only way I'll get over my irrational fear of hospitals.

Tigerlily713 – Thanks, there's a bit of dialogue penned in for chapter 17 that I'll probably e-mail you for your opinion. Umm… your ambidexterousness is a grey area, but I'll let you survive because I have a nice side to me somewhere. Keep an eye on the news, but it'll probably read 'Crazed girl trips over large net just behind England Captain' Sigh…

Ryoko Lasgalen – Dude, you're beyond high. That's away with the fairies shit… I'll bring it, and squash you like my rugby team squashed yours! Hah. Legless can't have green hair, his secret hair bleaching will be exposed!


	16. freedom

Ahem… I must stop doing this. I'll post my stories on Mondays/Tuesdays so I can use the weekends more effectively. It is a very long chapter, about 4500 words, if that's any consolation… probably not. I've only just got out of police custody for godsake! Apparently trying to abduct David Beckham is a tad illegal, pah! It's my human right to lock the man I love in a cupboard… or at least it's in his best interests to leave that bitch of a wife and claim a better life with me! Yup, that's what I told the coppers and they released me on bail pending sectioning. Aah, smell the freedom! Just in time to watch our egg-chasers claim that alarmingly small world cup trophy, and holding one's breath for an hour and a half is not recommend, you lose feeling in your toes… Mmm, Mr Wilkinson - another one to add to my 'Must do' list – Geddit? Damn, Alice, your mind is a filthy, filthy, place. This chapter is also late for another reason, that I'll explain at the end, otherwise, I'll spoil the whole damn thing. Anyway, don't be hasty… Mehehe, oh how I love the EE! It's bloody wonderful isn't it? He was twitching! Hehe… I could go on all night.

This chapter is dedicated to Lita of Jupiter as she has inadvertently changed the entire future of this story. Well done love, therefore is also part of the reason this chapter is late. Rotten vegetables in her direction please. 

Chapter Sixteen: Freedom 

His bare feet skimmed the sprawling grass, approaching the pair in a carefully executed silence. Creeping through the field he had fled from, his heart grew heavy. The dead lifeless bushes stared down at him like the skeletons of the men he had killed; his conscience was weighing heavily on him now. He hadn't really hated Donvan, or Grudoc at that, but it was a matter of survival. Carinyc was a different story. He despised him so much it made him ill. He hated that he would never forget his boastful smile as he-

"Not now." Estel grimaced, taking a deep breath, trying to clear his head of painful memories.

He had to help his friend, which was all that mattered at this point. Edging a little closer, the pair came into focus, Legolas facing in his direction. The sight alarmed the grim faced boy, but didn't shock him. Estel was just glad he was still alive. The elf's head was bowed, his long fair locks fluttering in the gathering breeze, unsure if Legolas was still conscious. He shuffled nearer, his mind becoming firmly fixed on his task. His eyes darkened and he settled on one knee at the edges of the wiry hedge, the opening where Raenir had hacked his way through in pursuit of him now provided a clear shot. Raising his bow, his heart thumped nervously, his hands shaking.

He froze.

Laughter echoed around the low hills. Estel's eyes darted around anxiously but fell upon the form of his friend. Legolas' head reared up drained, but a smile remained plastered across his fair face. 

"I would continue to keep a close eye if I were you." He mused. "Not for Donvan, he's dead, but for all those vengeful elves slowly surrounding you. Have you devised your escape plan yet?" 

"Be silent!" The human roared angrily, striking him across the face.

"You haven't…?" Legolas replied with feigned surprise. "Let me help you. South will lead you to Tharbad; a nice town at this time of year, I'm told, not a prime location for elves, but I rather think that would work in your favour. East are the mountains, Moria; dwarves and such like, but I hear tales of foul dealings there. West takes you toward the Shire, suspicious of the big folk they are, and I doubt you would be very welcome. North is hardly an option, and many of the Rangers and a few of my kin are in Gondor, so that'll be risky." He let in a sharp intake of breath. "Not many options."

"Do you ever shut up?"

"I was simply trying to save you from your bleak fate." He spoke casually, his tone mocking the human. "I don't know why I bother, you try to help a fellow in his time of peril and all gives you is an attitude and brute force."

Estel almost smiled. What on earth was Legolas doing? The elf's tongue was racing faster than his heart was. He doubted he even knew what he was speaking of, but his ceaseless prattling was distracting Raenir, which obviously had its benefits.  

"He's not afraid of you and neither am I."

"Is he not?" Raenir asked calmly.

"He's stronger than you think."

The ebony haired man stared at him hard, but a smirk crept across his bearded face and he scratched his chin idly.

"Perhaps." He replied softly. "But I remember that terror in his eyes when I caught him, he was so afraid of me that he abandoned you."

The blond elf held his gaze, unblinking, his eyes unreadable.

"Carinyc told me how much he regretted having to kill you both."

"Carinyc was sick." Legolas spat.

The broad figure snickered. "No, he just had a different taste to most. Estel is a pretty little thing, you think the same, I can see it in your eyes."

"He is a child! And your… friend violated his innocence, how can you condone such an evil act?" The elf growled furiously. 

"I did the same."

Legolas' eyes widened with dread, a sickening fear that they had harmed his young companion again. Anger boiled in his veins and a fresh hatred festered in his heart. 

"Then you are as revoltingly evil as he. Forget the others, I will have my revenge and you will wish you were dead." He hissed venomously.

Raenir laughed coldly. "I can see why he liked our young friend so much, to see all that fear and disbelief in those big, round silver eyes, it is quite the adrenaline rush. Listening to him screaming and begging me to stop. I should have waited until you had awoken and done it in front of you, perhaps that would have brought a scream to your lips." 

Unable to bear looking at this man any longer, his gaze shifted to the land around him, a faint hope that his forecast had not been empty lingered, but there was little sign of it. Fury and a stinging remorse hung heavy in his heart, he was so angry with himself so letting it happen to Estel again. As much as he had despised the man, he had never believed he was capable of the same evil Carinyc was. His head was spinning. Was Raenir speaking the truth, or was he simply winding him up? Was it another game? He didn't know. Legolas' stomach churned at the thought. Scanning the nearby field hazily, trying to calm himself down, he suddenly spotted the small figure of Estel watching him. Their eyes met for a moment, but the shivering boy quickly averted his gaze, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of crimson. 

The elf's heart sank at his reaction and closed his eyes to mask the tears welling in his blue eyes. 

Estel felt the heat rise in his cheeks, and rubbed his bleary eyes. His hands shook from the cold and anger at Raenir's lies, the last thing he needed was for Legolas to pity him even more than he did now. Carinyc had inflicted enough humiliation. His body tensed, and he took up his bow once more and pointed it toward them.

The fair being glanced back to his friend and immediately stiffened nervously at the sight. Raenir was only a few feet away from where he hung, Estel's poor aim was alarmingly fresh in his mind and he unintentionally flinched. He prayed his skills had miraculously improved, and his arrow didn't sail agonizingly wide and expose his presence… or even hit him. 

Steadying his breathing, the silver-eyed child tried to bite back the uncontrollable shivering. A lock of hair fell from his tight bun and flickered across his forehead. Drawing it back, his face darkened and he released the arrow without hesitation. He watched it fly in the air and slice through the rope with ease. Legolas crumpled down to the ground weakly and Raenir spun around, startled, reaching for his sword. Estel stepped through the scythed hedgerow, drawing his sword calmly. 

Face stern. 

Eyes unreadable.

They watched each other for a moment, their blades held tightly in their hands. Legolas looked at the stand off helplessly, his arms aching so much that he could barely move. Estel's expression scared him. He had never seen eyes as dead as his, nor a face so determined. The elf's chest heaved and he tried desperately to catch his breath, gather himself enough to help his friend. 

The first blows were tentative. Opening strokes to test one another, the metal chinking speculatively. They edged in a circle tensely, jabbing and retreating, waiting for the first real attack to be launched. Estel's heart thudded nervously, his hands still shaking. 

"It is just you left." The younger human announced calmly. "Only you can kill me."

Raenir frowned. "You are a liar."

"Do you honestly believe he is still searching for me in the woods?" 

He snapped the blade sharply at him, ripping the fabric of the man's tunic. He jumped back, unhurt but a little unnerved.

"I do not think a little boy could defeat him." He replied airily but the anxiety was written all over his face.

"Maybe you should widen your views, denial can make you vulnerable." Estel spat. "He's lying dead on the forest floor." Coolly taking a few steps back, he lowered his blade and merely looked at his enemy. "I lured him deeper into the woods, so I could use the extra cover against him… He didn't know what hit him."

Raenir watched him, taken aback by his unusual mood. The dark haired boy, moved his knife silkily, out of range from any sudden attack, eyes locked on his opponent.

"Bang!" He cried, stabbing his sword forward slightly at chest height. "An arrow to the heart, just...like…Carinyc." A grim smile appeared. "Legolas was right, I'm not afraid of you. Do you know why?"

His deep brown eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he could not think of how to reply and just shook his head.

"Because… if you were any kind of warrior, you would have struck while my guard was down." He growled and launched forward.

Estel's blade moved so fast that he struggled to defend himself. The shuddering child ducked and spun, lashing out ferociously. The steel clattered so hard, the hilt quivered in each of their grasps. His face grew darker and more unyielding, if that were possible. 

His eyes remained as glassy and unaffected as the lone moon. 

Slashing.

Stabbing.         

Pure attack.

The swift assault seemed unrelenting; Raenir could do little but frantically block each vicious blow. Estel was barely aware of how fast he was moving, or the non-existent defence he put up. He was in a trance. 

A haze of desperation.   

He just wanted it to be over. 

His head swam, each clang of blades ringing in his ears like far away bells. His arms ached but he continued at the blistering pace he set.

The elf remained on the ground, panting. His limbs felt heavier than lead, his shoulders screaming in agony. His throbbing hands fumbling uncomfortably with the severed rope until the tight bonds finally loosened around his pale wrists. He sighed with relief and tried to climb to his feet, but he collapsed infuriatingly weakly to the ground.   

The intense duel ran in this fashion for almost ten minutes, Estel on the attack and Raenir blocking his ever-tiring strikes as the wicked human slowly found his bearings. Each slash became wilder and more laboured and Raenir struck for the first time. The tip of his blade caught the struggling boy's shoulder and cut painfully into his flesh. 

Estel gasped and stumbled backwards as if he had finally woken up. Legolas watched wide-eyed and forced himself onto his unsteady feet, straining to help his injured friend.

His trembling hand moved to the gash, the blood soaking into his damp clothes, and laced his fingers. Staring at it dumbfounded, he didn't see the next blow come. The hilt of Raenir's sword connected with his jaw and he fell to his knees, coughing sickly scarlet mouthfuls of blood onto the sinewy blades of wild grass. The pain reverberated through his body; his head pounding so intensely he thought it would burst. A soft moan escaped his lips and he tried to get up, grappling for the sword he has lost.

The heavy sole of his opponent's boot connected with his back, ripping open some of his healing lacerations. Blood roared from the wounds and he rolled over to look up at his grinning enemy, their eyes meeting in a last lingering stare. There was no fear. None of the terror you would expect from a child, or even anyone, in such a dire position. 

Acceptance.

A grim recognition lined his features, and he sighed calmly, climbing back to his feet. 

"No more games." Raenir muttered, the vicious glint of his sword pointing at him, shimmering dangerously.

A stream of crimson seeped down his chin, dripping onto his clothes. Closing his eyes, the stony scowl that had haunted his face since his encounter with Carinyc faded as the blade was thrust forward.

He fell to the ground with a sickening thud. 

His ebony locks falling over his closed eyes. Blood dribbled gently into a small pool, staining the soil. Legolas looked down at him wide-eyed and slumped to his knees, his elven grace deserting him in his state. Rolling him onto his back, he grimaced and a gentle sigh escaped his lips. Running his fingers through his blonde mane, his eyes trailed up regretfully.

"He's still alive." He whispered.

A slight nod was the only reaction he got. 

"Estel?" Legolas murmured, placing his hand against the child's cheek.

He shied away from his touch, staring at the still form of the unconscious human. A small wound from the blow Legolas inflicted to his skull bled slightly but it wouldn't kill him. Pity, he thought sadly. He felt sick. Estel eventually turned back to face his friend, the elf's gaze burning uncomfortably into his skin. Legolas knelt on the grass, a small relieved smile lighting up his exhausted face, and a dirty streak of blood trailed from his nose. 

"It is over." He said softly, his blue eyes twinkling. 

Taking a step closer, the young being nodded with a feigned smile. "You are hurt."

"Nay, I will be fine. Your injuries concern me more."

Rubbing his shoulder tentatively, he shook his head. "Nothing more than a scratch." Estel muttered. "What are we to do with him?"

Looking at Raenir, his face darkened. "I am tempted stick my knife in his gut and leave him to die," The elf admitted hatefully. "But I shall let your father decide his fate."

He nodded vacantly, his bloodstained hands rubbing his chin awkwardly. "About what he said… about me-"

Legolas met his gaze, alarmed than even the slightest spark of emotion was lost in his once glimmering eyes, he traced his fingers softly along his swollen jaw line.

"He will pay for what he did to you." He replied reassuringly. "I will make sure of it."

"He lied… I escaped before he could do anything." Estel spoke firmly. "I would not have you think I was that weak."

The elf frowned, but part of him rejoiced that he had not been attacked again. "The last thing I think… is that you are weak, little one. There is not a moment that passes when I am not impressed by your character. We shall get through this."

"Do not speak of this to my family… I will tell them when I am ready." The young boy whispered, looking to the ground.

"If you wish, but-"

"Thank you." Estel cut him off before he could voice his concerns. "Shall we camp here? We are in no fit state to move on and are no longer running from anything."

"Would you not prefer to continue our path home? There is still a mighty trek ahead of us."

"Legolas, you are in more pain than you care to say, and I am weary. I do not think I can face riding on that horse again today." He spoke softly, but there was a painful distress in his voice that made the elf back down.

They sat in silence as Estel checked the elf's injuries over in front of the campfire he had erected. The flames licked the dry timber and warmed the human's back, easing the crippling chill that had crept into his bones. He pressed gently against Legolas' bruised stomach and frowned, glancing up at his friend, who was trying to disguise his discomfort.

"I think you've cracked a couple of ribs. There is little I can do with our basic supplies, but you should take it easy and try not to move too much."

The fair elf nodded with a faint smile. "Do not worry about me, you should think of yourself."

"I am alright, Legolas." Estel managed a smile. "The hurt is not much."

He watched the young being for a moment, his face was certainly lighter but his shoulders hunched with the great weight this saga had inflicted upon him. Peeling his drying tunic off carefully, Estel hissed quietly at his bloodied back and dropped the soiled bandages into the pot of water boiling noisily over the fire. He cleaned his wound awkwardly, struggling to reach with his sore shoulder.

"Let me do that." The elf strained to his feet.

Nodding reluctantly, he handed the dripping cloth to his friend and turned away. Legolas ran it as gently as he could over the nasty gash, working swiftly but meticulously. He could feel the tension in the child's body, noticing his clenched fists and quivering lip. There was an uncomfortable silence and he drew away his hand, looking to the ground, his eyes fell upon his bow.

"I am glad to see your aim has mysteriously improved." He remarked airily.

Estel glanced at him. "Hardly… I was trying to hit him, not you." He replied quietly.

The pair fell silent once more, Legolas looked away as a smile threatened to creep across his face. Biting his lip, he let out a most unelven snort and began to laugh. 

"That was graceful." The human smirked.

"I have spent too long in your company, I feel as if I'm turning into a clumsy human." He muttered with a wicked smile. "I smell like one too."

Sniffing him loudly, he grimaced. "I would say it was more of an Orkish odour."  

Legolas batted him across the ear playfully, but winced as a sharp pain ripped through his stomach. Watching him with concern, the youngster ordered him to rest as the afternoon sun threatened to break through the hazy cloud cover. The wind whirled around them, making the fire crackle irritably as Estel carefully removed a saucepan of a bubbling brown broth. Pouring it into a bowl that he had found in Raenir's pack, he placed it next to the elf, and helped him into a sitting position.

"I cannot guarantee it tasting of much, but it will numb the pain and make you feel a little better." 

The fair being smiled warmly and thanked him. "I should be looking after you, friend, not the other way round. You must rest and eat some of this."

"No, as annoying as it must be for you, I am relatively well and you are not. Now, if you do not cease this whinging then I shall be forced to bind your arms and legs and throw you into the river." He raised an eyebrow threateningly.

"I was not whinging, I was simply-"

"Moaning?"

"No-"

"Whining like a elf-maiden?"

"I do not whine! Can I not show compassion and concern without it being construed as whining?" Legolas asked exasperatedly.

"Just drink your broth."

"Eat." The elf corrected.

"Does it really matter?" Estel sighed.

Legolas laughed lightly and tucked into the relatively tasteless, but pleasant enough broth, while the silver-eyed human watched eagerly. A small smile lit up his sore face as the firstborn swallowed the last spoonful.  

"I will take first watch." 

Estel's smirk widened. "No, you won't." He said matter-of-factly.

The elf frowned. "I will not have you doing everything, you need some sleep."

"You have little say in the matter. You really should know better than to swallow something I prepared by now." His voice was tinged with a smug bemusement.

The last minutes of daylight slipped away and darkness slowly enveloped the quiet lands. The last songs of the birds died away and the silvery glow of the crescent moon dimly illuminated the sparse fields. The campfire roared on, the warmth making Estel a little sleepy, but he shook it off, glancing at his dozing friend. Legolas had been furious. He cared little and was grateful for the silence and privacy. He doubted he could face sleeping anyway, the image of Carinyc still haunting his mind.

Glancing down, he grimaced and checked the cooling balm he had concocted to try and ease the pain. He peeled off his trousers, sliding them down his tender thighs gently. Wincing, he sat back down on the ground and traced his fingers along the menacing bruises and stinging scratches. He couldn't believe how painful the superficial wounds were, no doubt worsened by the horse, but he didn't remember it hurting so much at the time. The deep purple bruises were gathered like storm clouds, the scarlet streaks like bolts of unwelcome lightning. His hands had been everywhere. Polluting his skin. Staring at them, his lip trembled and a lone tear rolled down his tender cheek. They were laughing at him. A constant reminder he'd been there. Why wouldn't they just disappear? Running his fingers miserably through his hair, he closed his eyes in disgust.

"He certainly left his mark on you." A voice said, a cruel laughter following.

His eyes flew open and fell upon Raenir, who was now sitting up against the lone tree, his wrists and ankles bound tightly. Mortified, he pulled his trousers up desperately, biting back the pain it caused. His face hardened, and he glanced over to the unconscious form of Legolas. 

"Speak not to me, I will not listen to your venomous words." Estel growled.

"You cannot fool me. You are nothing but a scared little boy trying to hide behind that stony exterior." The older human hissed.

He looked away, staring at the golden flames flickering against the dimming background.

"I told your elf that Carinyc could be very vicious. He didn't care though; thought it was up to you to take care of yourself… said you were a big boy-" Raenir snorted with laughter. "What he meant," His eyes trailed over his slim body. "I do not know."

The curly haired youth said nothing, and simply fiddled with his bootlaces casually.

"He thought you were so pretty, he couldn't take his eyes off you while you swam in the river with your brothers. I'd never seen him so excited, he was like a… little boy." He laughed out loud at his own words. "I knew you would not escape him."

Estel clenched his jaw and turned to face him. "Is there a point to this?" He asked irritably.

Brushing his remark aside, he rubbed his head with both hands. "What say you remove these silly little restraints and we can finish what we started?"

He paled, staring at him wide-eyed. "Why can you not leave me alone?" His voice squeaked.

"You know, you are right. I wouldn't touch you anyway." The dark eyed man replied coolly. "Tainted goods."

His cheeks burnt and he looked to the floor uncomfortably.

"Yes, you know of what I speak." Raenir smirked nastily. "No one's going to want to touch you. Look at you! You're despicable, you put on this innocent front but everyone knows you wanted it."   

"I wanted nothing!" 

"Of course you did. You could see it in those pretty eyes of yours, you were asking for it-"

"No."

"You led him on-"

"NO!" Estel cried angrily.

"I could see the lust in the elf's eyes, he regarded you as highly as Carinyc… but now, he thinks the same as I; you're polluted. He wanted something unspoiled, not a filthy little whore. No one will ever want you now." The man's voice hissed spitefully.

Rubbing his temple agitatedly. "Shut up." He mumbled.

"And your so-called father – as if he will want to burden himself the likes of you. A lying, troublesome, impure scrawny wretch, what pride can he have in that?"

The youngster twitched and rose to his feet. "Be silent." He ordered lowly.  

"I doubt if could even bear to look at you."

Tears began to roll involuntarily down Estel's face and he furiously wiped them away. "Shut up!" 

"Face it – you're a freak." A wicked smile, lighting up his menacing eyes.

"SHUT UP!" He screamed, storming over to him. 

"Freak!" He taunted.

"SHUT UP!" 

The younger human kicked out at him angrily, his boot connecting with Raenir's temple and he collapsed back into the trunk unconscious. Stumbling backwards, he stared at him, stunned at his reaction. His lip trembled and he slumped to the ground, pulling his legs up to his chest. Tears streamed down his cheeks hard and fast. Sinking his head into his knees, he sobbed hysterically. 

He felt so disgusting.                       

Looking down at himself, his stomach turned. Raenir was right; his family wouldn't want him now. Who would want such a poor excuse of a son? His head was so scrambled. Had he led Carinyc on? Not intentionally, but perhaps he had nonetheless. So, maybe he did deserve it. Maybe he did deserve to feel like this. 

He was a freak. 

Why had he not stopped him earlier? Perhaps he really did want Carinyc to touch him. He was so confused. He just wanted to feel normal again. Why had this happened? Why him? Out of all the people in Middle Earth, why did they choose him? He must have been asking for it. What other possible reason was there? 

Now, he was tainted goods. Impure. Spoiled. The humiliation burned inside him. He couldn't even look at himself anymore. He loathed the sight. He didn't even feel like himself anymore. Nothing belonged to him. 

His mind invaded by these evil memories. 

His body contaminated by Carinyc's dirty hands.  

He even smelt different, his musty scent lingering maliciously to his skin.

Estel gazed up at the stars as they twinkled mockingly down on him. He couldn't bear to feel like this anymore. So detached. Filthy. The thought assaulted him like an infection, gnawing at his soul. Looking away blearily, he spotted his knife, the blade glinting at him invitingly. 

A chance to make this all go away. 

Peace of mind. 

No more pain.

Estel stared at it for over an hour until all the land was lost in the suffocating blanket of silence night brought. His head span, but he could not keep his eyes off it. Tears continued to pour down his cheeks miserably but a calm filtered slowly through his veins, and he pulled a crumpled piece of paper from Raenir's belongings, along with a weathered pencil. Taking a deep breath, he scribbled down whatever came into his head, trying to steady his trembling hands. He dropped the pencil and folded the paper roughly, a sudden impatience growing and he clambered to his feet, clasping the blade between his fingers. 

He glanced at the sleeping elf, it wouldn't be long before it wore off and he awoke. Biting his lip nervously, he knelt beside him and stroked the long tresses fondly. Most of Raenir's words had been true, but not those about Legolas. He didn't believe a word. 

Estel placed a last kiss on his pale cheek. "Farewell." He whispered, turning away.

Walking slowly away from the camp, the warmth of the fire disappearing from his body as the chilly autumn night descended upon him. His feet crunched on the fallen leaves and he stepped over the sliced hedge. It was a path he had taken too many times. Where he had fled for his life. Where he had plotted Raenir's downfall. He had achieved neither. 

He never thought it would end like this.

Sinking to his knees, the tears still fell down his cheeks. His heart drubbed in his chest. Holding his note tightly, he placed the blade against his wrist and closed his eyes.

Freedom.     

TBC…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I just want to feel safe in my own skin 

_I just want to be happy again_

_I just to feel deep in my own world_

_But I'm so lonely I don't even want to be with myself anymore_

_On a different day, if I was safe in my own skin,_

_Then I wouldn't feel lost and so frightened_

_But this is today, and I'm lost in my own skin_

_-Dido, Honestly Ok_

_*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*_

Sorry, I don't normally do songfics, cos I don't actually get them, but this verse really stuck on me. As I was saying, trying to write a scene that emotional when your head's full of fucking 'Swing low, sweet chariot…' is pointless. It took me a while to find the right frame of mind, so I hope it was worth it.

TigerLily713 – No, I wouldn't do that to our Legless! Funny, I'd do it to wee Estel but not to ol' Legless… hmm. Something's not quite right about that. Oh well, future stories possibly. Wait, am I being stupid, but what the fuck's an ambi? Hang on…*click click click* ambidextrous. Aah. Rock on!

Jadelyn Rashwe – Are we like enemies now? You know, the whole rugby thing, cos I'm bored of all the lame Aussie jokes, and I think George Gregan (sp?) is great! He looks like all-powerful Oz!

Crystal-chan – Ooh… exploding cans? That sounds like terrorist talk to me! Fangirls and the FBI/CIA whatever, on your trail. Anyone wanna take bets on how long 'Chan lives? Ten minutes – odds on favourite. Now if knew what bishonen was, then I'd either thank you or err… hit you with it?

Maranwe1 – Insanely handsome is the word. If I saw him, I'd jump on him whether he was laughing manically or not! Is your head in its correct position now? I was rather worried when I read that…

Goldmund – I know, it's a sad change, but realistic I'm afraid. Do you know I never started this fic intending anything of this kind to happen to Estel? I made one remark in an early chapter and this whole thing sparked from an off-the-cuff comment. Oo-er!

Grumpy – His aim must be improving. I put it down to a fluke- ooh, I want an I-Pod… sorry there was an advert for it behind me. What was I saying? 

Darkphoenix - *Gollum hiss* Sorry, there's something about lawyers that unnerves me. Fuck, I forgot about the family. Umm… thanks for reminding me. Kidding, honestly…ahem…

Leggylover03 – Look, 11 year-olds do not have homing devises attached to them! Middle Earth is a big-ass place and neither Estel or Legless have big arses to find…mmm… Legless' arse. Sigh. Now, where's the scene in lotr with that?!

Alex mistress squirrel – too tired to think of an insulting name. Let's call a truce. My allies have pissed off back to I-raq, something about not liking British weather and fighting random American soldiers, and well, your allies are small furry things with silly tails. Talking trees and consistency of squirrel droppings an' all that… 

Silvertoekee – I know! 6am, what is that? I didn't realise it was still dark then! Legless is a tough little character, he can take a bit of rough, and he scared Raenir for a while… pity the bastard gets the ultimate revenge. Umm… I didn't just say that.

Lita of Jupiter – Hi, nice to see you again! Keep those fangirls on their leashes! The police didn't believe me when I said there were hoards of rabid ladies after me so I'm basically screwed if you let them loose. I'll be nice to him… right after this whole debacle is over…possibly.


	17. unhappy reunions

I cannot believe it's taken me this long to write a 2000 word chapter. I hate writer's block. I'm sorry everyone, you're welcome to throw virtual rotten vegetables at me. I changed the way the story was going at the spur of the moment and left myself in a bit of a muddle so I've been desperately trying to fix it, and I think I have so I'll post far more regularly over the next couple of weeks while I'm holiday. Anyway, the more important things, are you all basking in the warm glow RotK gave you? It was wonderful; I so want a pet Shelob. We'd have fun, I wouldn't be able to look at her or anything, but hell, she'd shut the cat up and make a good conversation starting point. But remember children, a Shelob's for life, not just for Christmas. I actually like Sam. Hmph. I was doing so well at hating him. Are any of you going to have a white xmas? Here, in London, we're having our traditional seasonal weather. That's right, it's pissing down. Grr. Normal, but still, grr. 

Anyhoo, I plan to post on xmas eve, but if I don't, have a wonderful xmas everyone, with lots of good food, a roaring open fire and roast Gollum with all the trimmings. Is that right? I'm a vegetarian, the whole turkey thing confuses me.

This chapter is for Grumpy, simply because of his deprivation of RotK and the fact he seems to be on the verge of bursting and that's not healthy. I don't even know if you're a bloke, I just think of the seven dwarfs, so to me you'll always be a wee man living in the forest with your six "friends" and that chick. 

Chapter Seventeen: Unhappy Reunions  

The naked gleam of the steel shone uncomfortably in the cold moonlight. He stared agitatedly at his wrist willing the blade to slice into his skin and end it all. He was ready. His whole body shook; a mixture of fear and an unbearable chill invading his body one more. He was more than just cold. It was consuming him. A low rumble in the distance distracted him momentarily but he quickly turned his attention back. Taking a deep breath, he flicked the shining knife across his trembling wrist. He let out a pained yelp and dropped it to the ground, glancing at the cut. It was only a scratch. It barely even bled and only stung a little.

Estel growled in frustration. Why couldn't he do it? 

Lifting the blade from the sprawling sinews of dying grass, he stared at his reflection in the moonlight, a thin rim of scarlet framing the cold steel. It sickened him. A pale, gaunt, gangly creature looked back at him. He didn't recognise his reflection anymore. He didn't want to. How could he let it happen? All those years of training himself to defeat any kind of threat, and he couldn't stop one man. 

One man.

An ashamed fury burnt again within him, he doubted it would ever stop. His cheeks flushed; too embarrassed to even look at himself. Estel slammed the knife back to the ground angrily. This wasn't normal. Why couldn't he be that person he was just a month ago? He couldn't face his family. Would they be able to tell immediately, or would Legolas tell them? He could already see their faces; the disbelieving disappointment, repulsion, feigned pity. He'd already seen that look in Legolas' eyes and he hated it. He hated feeling like a pathetic little boy. He wasn't a child. He was old enough to look after himself, old enough to defend himself. But he had failed. Too many times he had failed, and he was failing now as well.

This was stupid. He wasn't afraid of death. He never had been. He had never wanted to die, but he was never frightened of it. He didn't want it to end here though. His brothers had taught him to be a fighter. Was this a battle he wanted to win? But what if Raenir was lying? What if he could simply not tell them and carry on as normal? Nothing was stopping him. Except Legolas, but he would not speak a word if he begged him. He had hidden things from his family a thousand times over, why should this be any different? 

He peered at him from a distance; a mixture of relief and anxiety ate at him. His heart thumped in his chest nervously, and he glanced to his sons at his flank, their long dark hair fluttering in the breeze. Their faces were marked with the same fear, but there was a twinkle of optimism that was not there before. It had been a lumbering and frustrating fortnight. Their search had been hard and slow, there was little to track and everyone had lost hope at one point. But they didn't stop looking; they wouldn't until they found them, dead or alive. And there he was, lying there, stirring gently. Only one lay there. Legolas. 

They rode toward him, until the gentle glow of the fire lit up their fair faces. Kneeling down beside the prince, Lord Elrond squeezed his shoulder lightly, knowing it would be enough to wake him. His eyes fluttered open, slowly focussing on the dark haired being above him. He flinched, startled but a relieved smile lit up his bruised features. 

"You are hurt, Legolas, stay where you are." He said calmly.

The fair elf almost laughed, but could not think what to say. A wave of relief smothering his senses, and all the pain he was in seemed to diminish. Two familiar faces came into view with grim expressions, their blue eyes tinged with a great sadness.

"We are glad to find you, friend." Elladan said quietly, resting his palm gently on Legolas' cheek.

"And I have never been so pleased to see your ugly faces!" He grinned. "Can you not even manage a smile for us?"

The pair glanced at one another and then to the older elf lord, confused.

"Us? Are you saying Estel still lives?" 

The fair elf frowned. "Yes, the monster tried drug me not ten minutes ago-" He looked at the glittering stars in the inky black sky irritably. "Perhaps a little longer. Where is he?"

Relieved smiles spread across their fair faces and they scanned their surroundings desperately but a grim hush and an empty view greeted them. A loud horn suddenly boomed from Elrohir's lips and a low rumble erupted from the nearby hills. Several figures appeared; elves Legolas recognised from Rivendell and Gandalf, who looked exhausted but relieved at the sight, a gentle smile lighting his haggard features. More elves emerged until there were around fifty in full view; some remained elegantly perched on their steeds, while others were already spreading out on foot in search of the young human.  

"He must be nearby… collecting firewood or-" He paused, his eyes falling upon the state of Raenir. Blood dribbled from his mouth and a boot print was imprinted on his jaw where no such wound had been before. "Estel?" He cried out anxiously. "Estel?!"

He recognised those voices. Estel was terrified, but at the same time he heart was overjoyed. Looking down at the blade, he flinched and ran his fingers over it, picking it up loosely. He could do this. As long as they didn't know then he could move on, pretend like nothing had happened. If he could hide his injuries, smile and just be the person he used to be. The person he wanted to be. He stuffed the paper into his pocket and stood up. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward, into the gap in the hedgerow. 

Estel stared at them, his eyes widening at the sheer number around him. His heart quickened, cheeks reddening. His gaze fell upon his brothers, father and the bleary but relieved looking Legolas, and his lip trembled. Butterflies raced in his stomach. He felt sick. He couldn't hide this. A tear rolled down his skin, the knife shaking in his panicky grip. His friend's eyes suddenly met his, the elf grinning warmly, alerting the young human's family hastily. All their eyes quickly fell upon him, thankful, relieved smiles lighting up their tired faces. Estel didn't move, trapped in their gaze. Elladan and Elrohir took a few steps toward him, huge beams spread across their faces, but they paused, and Elrond strayed past them silently. In his usual understated fashion, there was only a small smile on his pale face. Kneeling down in front of him, he ran his fingers through the child's hair, touching his jaw tenderly.

Panic rose inside him, that all too familiar feeling haunting Estel once more. His skin crawled and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Carinyc had done the exact same thing, just as gently, the same smirk on his face.  

He couldn't bare his own family to touch him.   

His heart sank. Both his father's hands were on his face, and Estel felt the soft kiss on the forehead that Elrond always gave him. His stomach churned, a cold sweat forming on his skin. The dark haired human shirked away, pushing Elrond's chin roughly out of reach. Stumbling back a few steps, Estel looked at the troubled elf. 

"I'm sorry, Ada." He whispered, tears streaming down his face.

"You do not need to speak words like these, there is nothing to apologise for, my son." 

This only made Estel weep harder. "You do not understand!" He cried sadly. "None of you do. None of you ever will."

"Estel-" The elf moved toward the trembling child and held his shoulders firmly. "You will always be safe with me." He murmured, but felt him tense in his grip. 

The young human didn't feel safe. He felt ill at the person, whom he had loved and trusted without question, being so close. He hated everyone looking at him. Their eyes stung his skin, burnt his cheeks, and froze his veins like streams in the harshest of winters. He wanted the ground to swallow him up; he needed to be as far away from these faces and their hurtful eyes as possible. Never had he felt so vulnerable in his life. Where was his control? He'd always been able to show exactly what he felt comfortable with, and hide his fears. That was gone. It was all gone and now his father stood in front of him, seeking affection that Estel couldn't bear to give.

Estel let out a choked last apology and began to pull away from his foster father once more. The elder being's heart almost broke. He barely even recognised the sobbing boy, his adopted son, whose beautiful eyes would light up his darkest days, but now were a never ending spiral of emptiness with only the briefest flash of worry to prove he was still there. Now, Estel was trying to get away from him, he was right; he didn't understand. Elrond's grip instinctively tightened around him, he didn't want to let him go.

Estel's lip trembled harder. He couldn't stay here. This was worse than he feared. He felt suffocated. The more he tried to hold Elrond's gaze, the worse he felt. He was too ashamed. This wasn't how it was supposed to be; he was supposed to be overjoyed to see his family again, for this to be over. But he wasn't. He couldn't stand it. It wasn't over. It never would be. The panicking child scrambled away from the ebony haired elf, his arms flailing as he desperately tried to get away. Elrond clung on anxiously, but didn't want to hurt the already wounded child and simply held onto Estel's hand as tears threatened to fall down his own cheeks.

"Ada, please-" He squealed frantically, twisting his arm so that his father he no longer restrain him.

He sped through the field, unsure of where he was going. The dry grass scratched at his breeches, his feet thudding against the ground. Elrond was following him; Estel could hear him crying his name frantically. He couldn't do this. He didn't want to. Too embarrassed to look at his father, too angry with himself for letting Carinyc do what he did, too scared of Legolas making him face up to his demons. It was too much. His head reeled and he suddenly found himself sitting on the ground. His small body shook violently with fear and he stared at his wrist, his vision blurred with tears. The moon glared down at him, the cold bluish glow smothering his exposed skin. The striking line of crimson from his first attempt screamed up at him as a guide. 

This was the only way. The small blade gleamed attractively and he glanced at his reflection in the steel once more. He hated it. Taking a deep breath, he dug the knife in, sweeping it across his wrist with a sad determination. 

He'd cut deeply; he could feel it.

The searing pain barely registered and he dropped the bloodstained weapon to the ground beside him. He watched the blood pour down his arm, soaking into his tunic and trousers. A sense of relief flowed as quickly as his wound bled, but anxiety lingered. Every second felt like an hour. He just wanted it to end. Now. He didn't want his father to find him conscious. Estel's thoughts began to drift uncomfortably, his vision clouding, but he felt footsteps padding the ground near him. 

Elrond skipped through the dry grass, frantically scanning the deserted field for his youngest son. He heard a gentle gasp and his eyes flicked to the left, quickly settling on a small thicket. Running toward it with a soft smile to greet his son, he froze in his tracks. Estel looked up at him wide-eyed, his face a picture of worry. Sinking to his knees beside him, the elf quickly removed his cloak and wrapped it around the blood soaked limb, pulling the trembling child into his arms.

"Forgive me, Ada." 

Estel's muffled voice was ragged and the tall being felt him go limp.

TBC…

I know it's not much, but hopefully I'll post again before Christmas.

Thank you to my lovely reviewers, who are being very patient with my inconsistent posts at the mo. Love you all!

Silvertoekee – Killing Raenir was the original plan admittedly, but I have something in mind for the wanker. Sorry, I seem to be saying that word a lot recently. Bloody wanking Fifa and their arse licking wankers of a bitch the FA. Err… please ignore that, I'm tired and bitter. 

Crystal chan – Ah, you learn something new everyday. But if I hit you with one, it would be a good ice breaker, wouldn't it? Technically, isn't a grenade an exploding can? It's no good telling me you're not a terrorist, it's the CIA you have to convince. Plead ignorance, dude. Oh, and I hope you're feeling better now!

Alex mistress of the ones who torment my cat – Eh, not much meat on the poor Iraqis, feed some Texans to them. You almost cried? So did I, but hopefully not for the same reasons, I'm not happy with any of these chapters. I'm already planning the next two sequels after this, so I really need to get my head back on track for the last few chapters of this. Aargh!

Maranwe1 – Aah, you were supposed to get lost on that bit. I love my Hugo. I love Orli and Viggo and Dom and Elijah, not to mention Billy and dude who plays Eomer more, but Hugo is the man I adore but have no idea why, so he has a special place in my heart. I hate Shakespeare too, I'm doing The Tempest for coursework so I know how you feel! Poems are infinitely more annoying though, esp when you have an evil bitch whore from hell (my previous nickname for Eowyn, but I don't hate her anymore so the torch moves on)

Trustingfriendship – It almost happened I guess, seriously, I'm not that nice. There are a few twists and emotional rollercoasters to go yet I'm afraid. 

Luinthien – Of course I left it there, I've been too nice with cliffhangers recently. Mehehe. I am neither responsible for your heartburn, nor for my actions that could get me arrested. I couldn't do prison, there's something about communal showers that give me the willies. Yup, I know that sounds wrong.

Darkphoenix – Face my fears? Nah, lawyers creep me out but snakes terrify me and I refuse to see how conquering that fear will improve my quality of life. It's a healthy fear. Where was I? I found myself like Posh last night. Aargh! She was a good sport on Jonathan Ross and even had a go with Gandalf's pipe. Maybe divorce is off the cards, but hell, I wouldn't have Mr Beckham with you anyway, you can have Rio Ferdinand, he needs a job for the next 8 months, why not personal slave to lawyer person?

BabeyRachey – Like I'd kill Estel. *Cough*

TigerLily713 – Angst, anger, pain. Yup, that pretty much sums up this fic, and doncha just love it? Mwahahahaha. 

M J Rosemary – Wow, with a vocabulary like that, you could take Donald Rumsfeld's place. *Ducks*

Farscapeangel – Finally, someone admits they like all the angst, instead of reading it happily and then whinging. I thank you.

Grumpy – You make a very valid point. But arguably Viggo would still exist and I can just enjoy him instead. Mwahahahaha! How did you know I had a knife?! Oh wait, you were talking about Estel. Err… hey look, umm… Saddam Hussain's escaping on a flamingo. *Quickly discards sharp object* My mistake, it's just a pigeon.

Arayelle Lynn – I'm being cruel because I enjoy it. You do too. So does everyone here. Stop whining or I'll kill the little brat!

Arwen-evenstar2 – Hmm… killing Arwen, is that really such a bad thing? Leaves Aragorn for me, I like that plan. Thank you, you're very kind, just don't fall off the seat cos then you wouldn't be able to review, would you? *Smiles sweetly*

MidnightLoner – I hope I showed how hard it is to do it, if you think I've portrayed it badly, please feel free to give me some pointers. Well, Elrond and his merry men 'finding him' and 'in time' are two very different things aren't they… 

Leggylover03 – Sorry it took so long to update, where's your seasonal cheer? Washed away with the torrential rain like mine? Look out for the next chapter on xmas eve!

Lita of Jupiter – You have a stash of elves? Do share. You can have Neo, but Jack and Will…that's a different story all together. *Aims Nuke in Jupiter's direction* Hand them over missy. I found one your fangirls too, she got stuck in my chimney but I've managed to tame her, can I keep it? I'll take her out for walks everyday! I miss old Estel too, but we'll find him again, I promise, wait until my next story (February 04) and he'll be back. I can't believe you've got their corpses on your wall, I should be appalled, but can I come round and poke them with chopsticks?

Tithen Min – You're alive! It's been too normal without you. Come back from Tahoe or I'll cry and I don't ever cry (unless you count the 7 times during RotK oh and yesterday's episode of Angel) Oh and update SoS, I'll have to read the previous chapters cos I can't remember what's happening! 


	18. painful admissions

OMG, I actually kept my promise, I'm so proud! Woo! Anyway, it's Christmas eve and I have no time for a sarcastic remark or ranting or bad jokes (okay, just one: What goes 'OOOOOUUUUU'? A cow with no lips! Too funny!) Anyway, have a good Christmas everyone, I'll hopefully post again before the new year.

Chapter Eighteen: Painful Admissions    

It had been a long night.

The early minutes of dawn crept over the land silently, the welcoming golden glow driving away the lonely shadows of the night. The camp was quiet, many of the elves that had arrived with Elrond had already left to take Raenir back to Rivendell, and only half a dozen remained with the family. Gandalf had strayed a little way from the camp, watching the sunrise over the hills as smoke drifted lazily from his pipe. Occasionally he would glance down at the dozing elves, or spot movements in the tent, but he remained where he was. Little else stirred, bar the lone blonde elf who had propped himself against the tree, wrapped in Elrohir's cloak, eyes slowly taking in the new day. The twins lay beside him, Elladan's head resting against his brother's shoulder as they rested peacefully. They looked absolutely exhausted, Legolas noted, as if they had not slept since that fateful afternoon in August. He cringed at the crude spattering of Estel's blood on their clothes and his gaze shifted anxiously toward the nearby tent that accommodated the young human and Lord Elrond.  

The low fire crackled hazily, the soothing heat wafting into the makeshift tent. Elrond stared at him quietly, watching his chest rise and fall gently in his slumber. He had forgotten how tall Estel was becoming, how quickly he was growing up. Everything happened too swiftly with humans. But no matter how much he had grown, or how strong he had become, he was still a child. He was still his son. The elf sighed. He had come too close to losing him again. He was afraid he'd lost Estel in many aspects already. Elrond had barely recognised his son last night, after a fortnight of telling his other children and himself that they would find Estel alive, they had. But there was something wrong, he was not the same boy who had been taken from them. 

Those big grey eyes were empty. Estel couldn't bear to be touched. It had scared the elf. He'd run from his own family. It had hurt; he couldn't deny that. Finding him in that field, clutching his arm as it bled mercilessly… The elf felt his eyes well up once more. He had told everyone it was an accident. It might have been, but the look on Legolas' face had spoken volumes. It wasn't. His child, his eleven year-old child had tried to kill himself. Rubbing his temple uncomfortably, Elrond grimaced. He didn't understand. The elf trailed his fingers lightly over the heavily bandaged wrist and his gaze fell upon the bloodstained garments Estel wore; they reeked of death and pain and clung to his body like a dark shadow. 

He pulled a spare tunic from his pack and leant over him, pulling away the blanket and delicately unbuttoned Estel's trousers, sliding them down gently.

Elrond froze.

His eyes locked on the savage bruising high on the human's thighs, nasty fingernail scratches that made his heart thud in his chest so hard it shook his body. Recoiling his hands nervously, he edged away slightly, unable to take his eyes off the vicious wounds. Dread hung heavily in him and a heartbreaking realisation sunk in. Anger boiled in his veins and he was grateful Raenir was gone, unsure that he could restrain himself if the prisoner had remained. A tear trickled down his cheek; tears of sadness, fury and pity, his heart broke for his youngest son. He could only guess how afraid he was. He didn't need to guess. Last night had shown his state of mind. Delicately removing Estel's stained shirt, he grimaced at the lashes Legolas had informed him of already. Why didn't Legolas tell him? Did he even know? The elf's head span has he replaced his dirty clothes with a soft elven tunic and pulled the blanket over him again softly, placing a tender kiss on the boy's clammy forehead. 

A shadow lingered over him, and he turned to see Legolas standing in the entrance, one hand holding onto his broken ribs tenderly. His face was grim, laced with an unnerving sadness, his eyes dark and apologetic. They remained silent for a few moments, it was an uncomfortable hush but a necessary one and eventually the younger elf took a few tentative steps inside.

"I never wanted to love him," Elrond began quietly, not taking his eyes off the sleeping human. "I still don't want to. But through my reluctance, his spirit wore me down. He is my son whether he is my own blood or not." 

He fell silent once more as if trying to find the right words to continue. The blonde being watched him, unsure if he'd seen such anguish in Lord Elrond's eyes since the years following Celebrian's attack and subsequent passing over the sea.

"He has so much ahead of him; dark toils and immense tests that he may overcome or fail, but at this moment I have little care for his heritage, I just want him to be safe and happy. Yet here I am, looking over this helpless little creature, terrified that he has been harmed in such away." He murmured. "Tell me all that transpired in the fateful past weeks."

Legolas' gaze fell upon his sleeping friend for a minute or so before finally meeting Elrond's inquiring stare. He didn't know where to start or how to say what he needed to. Taking a deep breath and with a faint nod, he began.

"There were four. Raenir, you have met and whom I initially thought to be the leader, but later I found that assumption to be wrong when I discovered the identity of the quietest of the company." He paused uncomfortably; it was a tale he did not want to relive, but he knew Elrond had to know. "An assassin whose legend precedes him; Donvan. This was planned; a man of his reputation is not hired on a whim. The third, Grudoc, was the brawn of the group, but I think he was just a common thug out of his depth, and the last was Carinyc, friendliest with Raenir, possessing the same vicious streak. I was unconscious for the first three days, and their wrath was concentrated on me but on the fifth day, they turned on Estel. I watched helplessly as they tortured him for two nights in a row, Carinyc's knife inflicting grievous wounds that almost cost him his life."

He looked down at the still form of Estel, his face was a mess; the cut on his face had barely healed and was teamed with a countless number of small but painful looking scratches that were in turn, framed with slowly fading bruises. His jaw was still a little swollen from yesterday and a sickly sweat had formed on his brow. It was the first time he'd really looked at the young human since they'd been taken; whether the wounds that scarred his features clouded his view, Estel seemed older than his eleven years. He continued the tale, and described their escape, separation and reunion, and of Roiderick and Shana's aid.

"We were betrayed by their son, a stupid, insolent thing he was. Again we were split, Estel was pierced by Donvan's arrow and took cover. I left him in an attempt to lure them away but only two followed. For what reason he left his hiding place, he did not say, but he did and Carinyc pursued him… I heard his screams." He murmured, closing his eyes and rubbing them bleakly. "I raced through the forest, trying to find him, the odd cry finally leading me into his path. And there he was, standing in front of me, his shirt lying at the bottom of a ditch and his trousers unbuttoned. He was shaking like a leaf, unable to look at me. Estel wouldn't speak of it but I knew that filth had attacked him; it was plain to see. He killed Carinyc out of self-defence. If he hadn't, then I would have cut his throat without hesitation."

His account became somewhat patchy after that and could only go on Estel's word that Donvan had fallen, and Raenir's poisonous threats. Legolas finished and the uneasy mute fell between them once more, the raven-haired elf remained still, staring vacantly at his hands that were now clenched into tight fists, leaving his knuckles white. He closed his eyes in a slow disbelieving blink, trying to take it all in. The fair figure knelt beside him awkwardly, not knowing what else he could say, nor could he find any words of comfort and instead found himself folding up Estel's bloody clothes. A crumpled piece of paper, stained in one corner with blood, fluttered to the ground and on it was simply scrawled: 'Ada' They both stared at it, unmoving, their hearts skipping a beat nervously.

"Read it." Elrond said softly.

"It is not addressed to me." 

Elrond looked up at him. "I know, but I dare not."

Legolas held his gaze and reluctantly nodded. It rustled a little in his grip and he unfolded it apprehensively. His eyes trailed anxiously down the page, it was shakily scribbled in Elvish and spattered with tears that smudged the words. 

"I cannot bear to look at myself." He began quietly, feeling the knot in his stomach tightening. "My skin crawls with every touch, he haunts my steps and reels through my memory." Legolas stopped, his lip trembling. "I cannot bear being this person anymore, the humiliation is eating at me and I cannot breathe. I am so ashamed. This is the only way. Forgive me." He wiped away a tear that streamed down his skin, and continued, his voice shaky. "Maybe now I will not be afraid to close my eyes… Ada, Elrohir, Elladan, I love you all. I am at peace."

Taking a deep, ragged breath, Legolas folded the paper back up and clasped it tightly in his palm. Silence fell upon the two elves again, both staring at the ground, shocked. A couple of minutes passed and Lord Elrond suddenly cleared his throat, making the fair elf jump.

"I think, perhaps…" He trailed off. "I think, perhaps, that we should keep this between ourselves." He continued quietly.

"No, Estel needs to know that what happened is nothing to be ashamed off. Keeping secrets and covering it up will not help him get over this." The younger being frowned.

"That is not the reason I wish to hold it back from his brothers." He replied calmly, pushing his locks over his shoulders. "When I discovered his wounds, I could barely restrain myself, if that man had not been taken away already, then I don't know what I'd have done. My sons are still young, and have tempers that rival your father's, if they knew Estel had been harmed like this, then they would kill him."

"And would that be such a bad thing?"

"The guilt would consume them." He said simply, his stern brow furrowing. "I do not think Estel could handle everyone knowing all at once, we will tell the twins together when he is ready. I do not want to force anything upon him."  

Elrond looked at him, their gazes meeting, and in the older elf's blue eyes, Legolas could see the wisdom that told him the raven-haired elf knew best. Reluctantly, Legolas agreed and handed him the note. Through the corner of his eye, he spotted a slight stirring, and they both turned to see Estel blinking tentatively. He looked at them, his eyes like two slits as he tried to adjust to the light, and let out a soft moan. Smiling warmly, the older elf leant in closer, stroking a limp curl from his eyes tenderly.

"It is well, my son." He murmured soothingly. "You are safe, I am with you."

The young boy squinted uncomfortably, his eyes narrowing further. "Ada?" He groaned. "Where am I?"

"Where we found you last night, we will depart for home soon." Elrond explained calmly. "How do you feel?"

"Cold, but my head burns." The grey-eyed child mumbled, slumping his bed back into the pillow.

"Rest, little one. You are overrun with fever, try and get some more sleep."

The journey to Rivendell was an uneasy affair, frustrating but necessarily unhurried. The elves' horses were tired and now carried a heavier load, so speed beyond their energy was not urged. Legolas' ribs also prevented him moving with much pace and walked a goodly way for it was less painful. It was a wearisome injury for the normally agile elf, and he spent most of the nine-day passage deep in his own thoughts, silent and distant. Fever from Estel's refuge in the icy river rampaged in the young man's body, assaulting his already weakened senses. He slept for most of the way, and when conscious, he rarely made much sense, gibbering or shaking, never answering Elrond's cautious questions. Elladan had departed south against his father's will, to return Roiderick's horse and to thank the family for their help, but also, or what Elrond suspected, to find the bodies of Grudoc, Carinyc and Donvan.

It was at dusk on the ninth day when they finally reached home, a grey evening surrounding them and a seasonal chill travelled in the light breeze. The fair elf walked beside Lord Elrond, who rode slowly on his horse, holding the dozing human tightly against him. A mass of dark curls poked out of the soft grey cloak that shielded him from the cooling autumn conditions and Legolas could see a glimpse of his bruised face, his eyes were tightly closed and a sickly sheen coated his sallow skin. They spoke no words; instead letting the sweet intoxicating chorus of the elves soothe their worries as they strayed further into the valley. The songs were celebratory and welcomed their welcome, but there was no banquet or party for everyone was drained, harbouring illness or injury, and most retired to bed with a comforting relief to help sleep peaceful.

Lord Elrond sat on the edge of his son's bed and pulled the soft quilt over his slim frame. He watched Estel ruefully for a moment, and placed a kiss on his bandaged shoulder.

"Most of those wounds will scar, but I have a feeling he will not mind them too much; I get the impression he thinks they are quite the thing to be cooed over for. His warg scars were a hit with some passing maids in the summer…" He remarked quietly, his dark hair falling over his shoulders. 

"There are scars that run deeper than his skin." Legolas replied, standing in the doorway. 

"And they will heal, in time. His family and friends will be there for him."

"Except that they know nothing of his horror."

"They will, when Estel is ready to tell them." Elrond answered firmly as he rose to his feet, moving silently past the frowning elf. "It is best to let him choose his own path."

"And if it is the wrong one?"

"Then we will give him some gentle guidance. I will force nothing upon him, his spirit is too fragile right now."

They closed the door, leaving Estel alone in the darkness. Two eyes blinked open wide, and he sighed shakily. A tear rolled down his cheek, falling to the pillow silently.

TBC…

Just another fairly obsessed Aragorn fan girl – I agree, the elf gets too much publicity, we need more good Aragorn fics and I'm flattered you think mine is well-written! Don't apologise for the long review, I prefer them, mine are always long!

Arayelle Lynn – You read my mind, more torture to come, then a niceish fic and then a darker one… stay tuned. Legless will be there btw, I can guarantee it.

Voyuerer – There are still a few more twists to go, in the final three chapters.

TigerLily713 – Great poem, it sums up a lot of what Estel is feeling, thanks!

Spades – Cliffhangers are addictive, I don't smoke or really drink so I need a vice! Damn, that makes me sound sad… oh well, you're right though, they are too fun to write, even funnier when people scream at you for doing them.

M J Rosemary – Well, I'm not a very nice person ;-) It was more of a dig at Rumsfeld and all his unknown unknowns and whatnot. 

HobbitsRFun – I left it there because I'm evil and bereft of Christmas cheer and need to get my kicks somehow!

Tithen Min – I understand, I've been suffocating under the load of college work, but I'm happily neglecting them for the next week. I'll have to be patient, what other choice do I have other to ask someone to point me in the direction of Tahoe and send my legion of savage penguins to speed you up!

Alex mistress squirrel – Well, there's a rogue squirrel on the loose then and he's mocking my cat/llama, can't someone like arrest it and send it to rodent prison or something along those lines?

Silvertoekee – Wow, I never expected to have to explain the term 'wanker' to anyone! To wank is to masturbate, and so 'wanker' is the equivalent of being a bastard I suppose. It's not a term of endearment… you must have a different word for it in your neck of the woods. Hee, that was fun, international swearing relationships paving the road to world peace!

Dragonfly – Hee, I do love a good cliffie. You all whine like bitches and it makes me cackle. ;-)

Lita of Jupiter – Do you really need Paris and Will? Okay, lend me a couple of elves and Will, and you can keep Jack and Paris, consider it a Christmas present to your favourite author. I'll pop round on Boxing Day for a good old fashioned poke as well and we can discuss conditions, and also return the fangirl (she bit my dad's finger off this morning) RotK was wicked, I cried too many times! I loved all Merry and Pippin's bits, Pippin's song gave me goosebumps, and the A/A bits were so sweet, esp when Aragorn had tears in his eyes and the cuddly child! Legless' bit was great, but everyone was too busy cheering to hear Gimli's line which was a pity. Roll on EE! Oh and no, I like your mammoth reviews, they're great fun to read!


	19. a knight's tale

Aargh! Sorry everyone, I'm being a total shit at posting so erratically right now, the next chapter will be as soon after the 27th as I possibly can write it. Exams and coursework (And Championship Manager) have taken up all my time, so once again I'm sorry. In fact, I'm so tired, it's not even worth me writing anything here, so on with story. I haven't actually proof read this either…

Chapter Nineteen: A Knight's Tale  

The new day sparkled through the valley merrily, a warm golden glow filtering into the muted bedchamber, making the candlesticks sparkle like stars on a clear summers night. Slowly, the dawn crept further in, leaving the sleeping elf basking in a soft radiance, lighting up his once flawless features that were now, albeit temporarily, tarnished with fading bruises and healing scratches. His long blond mane matched the gentle hue of the brightening sky, the sun now straining to penetrate his slumber but could not. Legolas would not wake for a while, the weariness of his ordeal overcoming him finally, his body at last managing to let the elf be selfish, to accept that he must think of himself for the first time in what seemed a never ending nightmare. 

The sun was an orangey gold, but still let off that eerie cold iridescent glow that autumn and winter always brought. There was mist at the lowest points of the dell, looming over streams lazily, refusing to lift. A peculiar silence had taken over Rivendell of late, gloomy, subdued, but the trees were full of sweet song once more, and yet they were not the uplifting verses that greeted them the night before, the words were tentative, nervous even. Lord Elrond was the only one other than the abducted pair that knew of true horror of what had befallen them, but elves are perceptive creatures and could tell that there was no room for over-the-top celebrations. Everyone just wanted to go back to normal, how life had been before; smiles, innocent teasing and elaborate pranks that made everyone feel like elflings again. 

The hours passed and he remained lying in his comforting bed, the first time he had felt safe for a while. The sheets hung over his slender body soothingly, and his head was burrowed into the feather filled pillow, his hair straying over his face in golden wisps, guarding his senses from the intrusive morning light. Eventually he awoke reluctantly from his trance, his eyes fluttering irritably in the unwelcome sunshine. He didn't want to leave this bed, the consoling peace of his slumber beckoning him to return, and in his heart, there was nothing at that moment he wanted more, but he knew he couldn't. He had a duty to his friend, and to Lord Elrond, to help Estel in any way he could. How could everything change in such a short time? 

Climbing out bed reluctantly, Legolas washed. Streams of brown water flowed from his filthy hair and he couldn't help but smile; elves did not suit being dirty, especially this elf. His new clothes lay on the back of the chair beside his bed and his mood lightened further. Clothes that fit him, that felt soft against his skin, the colours of winter, he mused. It wasn't that late yet, but it felt like it. The velvet tunic glistened, the ivory material embroidered delicately with silver leaves and fit his bandaged torso perfectly and he opened the door calmly, the sound of the latch echoing down the quiet corridor.      

He made his way down the stairs at his own pace, deep in thought. It was a relief not to have to be wary and alert to every sound, to just be comfortable again. Legolas was exhausted, physically and emotionally, his shoulders uncomfortably hunched; too long in the company of a graceless human he had joked, but that wasn't it. It was an invisible weight on him, his heart was heavy, his whole body felt heavier now. The elf traced his fingers along the walls lightly, familiarising himself with the halls once more. His feet were bare, the cool stone soothing his still aching feet. Shoes felt unnecessary and inappropriate now, he was just enjoying the softness of the rugs, the smooth floors; it was good to be back. 

The fair prince paused; he could hear the sound of laughter. It felt like an age since it had last graced his ears. It was Gandalf's deep guffaw and Elrohir's melodic giggling.

"You cheated!" He heard someone exclaim, and Legolas grinned. "Where is my pawn, you crafty old conjurer?" 

It was Estel. 

Quickening his steps, Legolas appeared in the doorway of the hall. There he was, smiling and laughing at the table with the wizard, the crackling fire lighting their faces in an inviting glow. Elrohir stood behind Gandalf, leaning against the high backed leather armchair the Istari sat in, his ebony locks draped happily over his shoulders, he too, was grinning, and greeted the Mirkwood elf cheerfully. 

"There is breakfast waiting for you in the dining room, my friend." The elf informed him. "We have all been treated to quite a feast."

"Treated?" Estel snorted from under the table, where he was looking for his missing pawn. "It was treat until the forth plate, I think my stomach is ready to split."

"You need feeding up, little one, you are stick thin." Gandalf remarked, pulling the carved chess piece from his beard and placing it back in its rightful place on the chequered board, picking up a knight and hiding that instead.

"I am not!"

Legolas smiled awkwardly, unsure of what to say or make of the scene before his eyes. Estel emerged from the floor and their eyes met momentarily, the human quickly looking away and returning his attention back to the tampered match. 

Looking up at the wizard with a withering glare, he narrowed his eyes. "You would think being immortal, you would spend your time doing useful things rather than cheating a child of victory in a friendly games of chess." 

Taking his leave, the fair elf exited swiftly, his head spinning. He didn't know what to expect on their return, but it wasn't this. He longed to see the tortured human laughing again but not like this. It didn't feel right. Or real. Not through a desperate act, hiding his pain from those he loved.

Finally, he escaped from his third serving of breakfast; unsure of whether he could ever eat another meal again. Legolas walked slowly through the house of Elrond, nursing a full stomach and his aching ribs, until he reached the courtyard. The clouds had drawn in a little, swathing the trees in a hazy sunshine, a slight wind skipping over the buildings, and a lone figure sat on the steps, arms resting on his knees. He approached Estel silently and stood behind him wordlessly. 

"If you are going to stand over me, at least say something." Estel eventually said quietly.

"I cannot find any words to speak."

"You want to know what happened this morning." He said simply. "If that is what you wish to know, then just ask and be done with it."

Legolas fell silent, and after what seemed like hours, he sat down beside the grim faced boy. "If I honestly believed you were happy again, then I would not press this, but your discomfort at my presence told me that was not the case. Why do you hide behind a cheerful mask when you do not need to?"

The young being said nothing at first, tapping his fingers on his knees. The elf watched him intently, his eyes trailing over his features; the red rimmed eyes, puffy and tired, sore, sliced cheeks and bruised jaw. Estel suddenly turned to him; his silver eyes were wide and tinged with anger, but little else.

"My brothers and Gandalf are the only ones who remind me of who I was. I don't care if it's not real, I'd rather pretend to be normal and happy than have everyone know my shame." He growled. "Why did you tell him? You said you'd wait until I was ready."

"I didn't tell him; the morning after you cut your wrist, he asked me what happened. He already knew." Legolas replied defensively. "Remember that night, Estel? Remember how you took care of me, treated my wounds, made me food, then drugged me so you could kill yourself?" Anger boiled in his veins suddenly.

"I didn't drug you so I could do that. I did it because you needed rest, you would never have slept with the pain of your ribs." He explained, looking to the ground. "I did it so that I could treat my own wounds in private, injuries that I didn't want you to see."

The elf gazed sadly at the dark haired boy, watching his lip quiver.

"Legolas!" Someone cried from inside and he turned around to see who it was. 

"Would you like to speak somewhere more private, Estel?" He asked quietly, but was only met with silence. 

Shifting his gaze back, he realised Estel was gone. Sighing, he looked around, but there was no sign of him and Gandalf joined his side.

"Lord Elrond is looking for you." He explained quietly. "He's in his study."

The week following was strained and slow in passing, it was unusually mild though a chill still lingered after dusk. The leaves slowly began to shed their leaves as October drew closer, and the whole of Rivendell was left in the golden blanket of autumn. Legolas had barely seen Estel since the night they had returned, they shared meals together, but never had the chance to talk privately. The fair elf often spent his time with Lord Elrond now, discussing what to do with Raenir, but they could never come to a clear decision. This day was no different, and the pair sat amongst the dusty books quietly, steaming cups of tea and untouched plates of food resting on old parchments.  

"I have not seen Estel today." Legolas remarked.

"Nor I, one of the maids said he was up at the crack of dawn and spent the morning on the archery field alone." The other elf explained, his voice tinged with a sad confusion. "I have seen little of him this past week."

"I am not the only one he is avoiding then."

"It seems not. I want so desperately to speak with him, but I cannot think of any words so I let him disappear…" He tailed off and an awkward silence fell between them. "I had word from Glorfindel this morning; he says he will send news on these characters as soon as he knows anything, but he has not heard of any of them except for Donvan. Mithrandir thinks it best he join Glorfindel in Gondor, so he rides south at dawn, I think he feels of little use here." The raven-haired elf spoke eventually, passing the letter to him.

His eyes trailed over the words for a moment. "A lucky escape." Legolas mused over the words bitterly. 

"It was."

"It doesn't feel like that." He snorted. "Has Raenir said anything, or has he kept up his infuriating silence these past days?"

Elrond looked up, his face darkening. "He has become decidedly talkative of late." He began, taking a long sip. "The things he says about my son…" He trailed off and the younger elf could see the anger in his eyes. "Despicable, lecherous claims about Estel's character, he shows no remorse or fear."

"He enjoys causing pain too much, he can see how much it hurts you so he carries on despite his imprisonment. But above all, Raenir knows he's failed his mission, he knows Estel is still alive and so is going to try and torment him further by spreading vicious lies."

There was a gentle knock on the door and a servant appeared, they traded a couple of words and he exited promptly.

"A party from Gondor have just arrived at the borders, one of their company is unwell." He said irritably. "This is an unwelcome distraction indeed."

Estel sat alone on the same stone bench he always sat on, book resting on his lap as the cool breeze fluttered around the winter flowers, the late afternoon sun creeping through the trees. He wore a grey tunic and trousers that matched his eyes and soft suede boots, his dark locks plaited neater than he had ever allowed before, the bruises on his face had thankfully faded but the cuts remained a scrambled mess, especially his gashed cheek that didn't seem to be healing at all. He could hide the other injuries, move on, but these remained, reminding everyone, making them stare at him with nauseating pity. 

Returning to his book, his fingers trailed across the slightly yellowing paper and he drifted away in the words once more. A few minutes passed and the sudden sound of voices drawing closer caught his attention, his eyes darting around for signs of movement. There were voices he recognised and some that he didn't, growing louder until he could hear what they were saying, and they suddenly emerged through the trees, a dozen or so men and women. One woman sat on a horse with which Estel presumed to be her husband, she was heavily pregnant, her skin pale and sickly, his face frowning and concerned. She was ill, but by the mood of the rest of the party, the young boy sensed it was not too serious. He smiled and nodded in greeting to the elves that accompanied the company, and he approached them, his eyes trailing over the others.

Estel halted in his tracks, his heart thumping hard in his chest.

It was Carinyc. His hands shook violently, the book in hand falling to the ground. 

The dark haired man caught glimpse of Estel and smiled warmly. "My eyes almost deceived me, this young fellow could be mistaken for one of the firstborn." He laughed.

Lómarandil, a loyal guard of Rivendell couldn't help but let out a gentle smirk. "Many have made the same observation. This is Lord Estel, foster son of Lord Elrond."

"It is a pleasure to meet you." He spoke a little uncomfortably seeing the terrified expression on the young human's face. "My, my, you have been in the wars, haven't you?"

Estel said nothing, too shocked, too afraid. His heart thumped, why wasn't he running? Why couldn't he move?

Legolas strode down the path with the raven-haired elven lord quietly until the party came into view. He paused, taking a second glance at one of the men. For a moment, he could have sworn it was Carinyc. The dark features were similar, but he was too old, and his momentary alarm disappeared. They welcomed the company politely, and Legolas placed a hand on the boy's shoulder in a gentle greeting. Estel jumped, startling the fair elf.

"What is wrong, little one? You're white as a sheet." He murmured as Elrond led the men and women away.

The wide-eyed human stared at him, his mouth parted as if he were trying to find the words. He backed away, his boots scraping on the stone path. 

"I'm losing my mind, Legolas." He spoke, his voice almost a whisper. "Every time I think I'm moving on, that it's finally over, it comes back. I would have told everyone that he was the man who hurt us, if I could have got the words out, an innocent man would have joined Raenir in the cells."

"I know how hard it must be, but you are not losing your mind, Estel. You're strong-"

"Strong?" He snorted. "You know nothing of me, if I was so strong, then why couldn't I stop him? I can kill a dozen goblins without blinking, but I can't fend off one man."

"Est-"

"You don't understand, you never will, so stop trying to! I haven't slept since I slit my wrist."

"Estel, you slept for days-"

"I'm a good actor." He said dryly. "I lay in my bed every night, staring at the ceiling, too afraid to shut my eyes. He's dead, Legolas, but he's still in my head, still in the dreams that I refuse to have. Raenir makes sure he's in your mind too. You're not repulsed by every friendly hug or touch your family gives you. You don't lie to your brother so that he still loves you and looks at you the same way as he used to." Estel growled angrily, tears threatening to run down his cheeks. "You don't hate yourself. You don't stand in front of the mirror every day but can't bear to look at the sickening reflection."

Legolas looked at his young friend, his heart breaking, his own tears welling in his blue eyes.

Estel's shaky voice muted. "Your first kiss was not with a man who was about to rape you. You didn't have someone touching every inch of your flesh, groping so hard it bruised. You didn't have a man whisper every sick fantasy in your ear, telling you his exact intentions. You don't still smell him on you. You didn't kill a man when you were eleven years old because you were so afraid of what he was about to do. You don't hate every second you're alive with this memory refusing to fade. So don't pretend you understand, because you can't."

A silence fell between them, and the elf stood motionless, his head reeling and stomach knotted tightly. Looking down at his trembling hands, a tear trickled down Legolas' nose, hitting the ground with a slight tap. He was shaken by Estel's outburst, helpless and angry that he couldn't fix this. Glancing back up, he realised the young boy was long gone, looking around; he suddenly noticed that it was dusk. He must have been standing there for over an hour, wrapped in his painful thoughts. The sound of hooves drawing closer caught the elf's attention and Elladan burst into view, his face grim, acknowledging his friend with a simple nod.

"It is good to see you again, Elladan, we did not expect your return so soon." Legolas spoke gently, clasping the horse's reins.

"It was not my intention to, but I received some very disturbing that brought my swift return."

Tbc…

Okay, your review replies should be here, but it was going to take me so long to get through them, I thought it was best to just post today with a broad thanks, rather than any later with all your replies. Your reviews are always wonderful to receive and really make my day, so I promise I'll reply properly next chapter!

I love you all! (Sorry, I'm just a little emotional at finally getting round to posting this chapter)   


	20. family ties

Well, this long wait was fun for everyone wasn't it? Pssh. See, you write nearly 4000 words, and then you make up things like pssh because that helps the world. How is everyone? Did you all watch the superbowl thingy? Thought so. Well done to whatever team won whatever sport it was. Oh, and who the hell is suing for damages for the whole JT/Janet Jackson boob thing? Damages? What, did the excessively bad outfit Janet was wearing damage you, or the totally mundane dullness that is American sport cause mental damage through lack of stimulation? No offence, but Baseball and your "Football" is about as enthralling as watching Tony Blair playing chess with himself. Pfft. Oh, and talking of JT and Janet, what is with the banning Janet and only letting Justin collect his awards if he publicly apologised? Fuck that, Justin. Stick two fingers up at them and come to Britain where we can handle a brief flash of nudity and the only thing you have to apologise for is speaking against the 'all knowing, all powerful Oz' that is apparently Tony Blair and his joke of a government. God, I've just coughed up a big hairball of malice and discontent, haven't I? Oh well, I didn't get to rant in the last chapter, so it's built up. I went to see RotK again last week and some woman tried to attack me at the end. Hee. Well it is South London, what do you expect? This is the place where there's a sign outside a church that says: "Jesus, the Lord of the Kings: The Coming of the King" to entice the young folk in, and those watching the film sit there looking at Gimli, thinking 'Damn, Gandalf's put on weight.' Nuff said. There you go, I've insulted Americans, the Prime Minister and my own people. Wow, that's impressive, even for me.

Chapter Twenty: Family Ties

Elladan stared at him with a look that made the elf's heart ache. There was hurt and anger in his blue eyes, confusion, pain, and fury. Legolas knew that look; he'd seen it in Lord Elrond's eyes and his own. 

"I must speak with you and my family immediately." He said sternly, passing the reins to one of the guards. 

Legolas walked alongside him, struggling to keep his friend's blistering pace, Elladan's travelling cloak flapping behind him. 

"What troubles you, my friend? What news is there?" The fair being asked, but he suspected he knew the answer to both questions. 

"I found the family that helped you. They were relieved to know of your safety, the man, Roiderick, was even kind enough to help me bury the one who threatened his son, the one who hurt Estel." He turned to look at Legolas, eyes burning.

The elf paused, his blond locks fluttering as they stood at the doorway. "It was more than one man who inflicted those injuries." He said meekly.

"You know what I mean." Elladan said softly, his voice quivering a little.

"Oh." Legolas said uncomfortably, unable to think of something of any use to tell him. 

"It is true then? I rode home, begging the Valar that he was mistaken, that he had misunderstood you."

There was an uncomfortable hush, and both elves stood a couple of feet apart, lips pursed and eyes averted.

"He had not."

The dark haired elf fell silent, clenching his jaw, biting back his tears. His grip on the door so tight, his knuckles were white.

"I'll kill him." Elladan growled. "I don't care if that Raenir man had nothing to do it, I'll squeeze the life from his veins anyway. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Estel was not ready for you to know and we respected his wishes."

They held one another's pained gazes, before the twin turned away abruptly and walked swiftly into the halls. Legolas followed behind, jogging to catch up. The warmth of the fires and the inviting aroma of the evening feast being prepared were lost on the two troubled elves.  

"Find my brother and father, we need to talk." He ordered as they strode into the Hall of Fire, where the Gondorian party were gathered.

"They are over there, my friend, please, stay calm." The Mirkwood elf murmured. "Losing your temper will aid nothing."

Elladan didn't reply, and stood rooted to the spot, watching his little brother as he spoke with Gandalf. Sensing his presence, Estel glanced over and spotted the elf, a wide grin spreading across his face. Legolas smiled. There was genuine joy in the human's eyes. 

The youngster ran toward them, his gaze firmly fixed on his newly returned brother. "Elladan! It is so good to see you!"

His foster brother said nothing, a faint smile, not of pleasure but rather badly concealed anguish. He knelt, so that he was shorter than the bruised boy, and placed his palm on Estel's cheek softly, before pulling him into a tight hug. Legolas watched them a little uneasily; remembering the human's earlier words, and noticed that his eyes were firmly shut. The elf broke away a little and rested his forehead against the boy's, his hands trembling with anger.

"He will pay." He whispered.

Estel tensed, his breath catching in his throat. His heart thudded anxiously, eyes widening. Glancing up at the fair elf nervously, he studied his features, unable to catch Legolas' averted gaze. That act alone told him what he feared. Rage boiled within him, anger at Legolas, mortified that another knew of his shame. Shrugging out of his brother's embrace, he backed a couple of steps away silently.

Elladan watched him sadly. "Why do you recoil? I am your brother, you need feel no embarrassment or hide your feelings from me." He murmured.

The hall fell a little quieter, a few heads had turned to watch the hushed scene, but most hadn't noticed. 

"I hide nothing." 

"Don't do this."  

"You are mistaken, Elladan." He hissed irritably, his stomach tightening.

"Roiderick told me, Shana too." The taller being replied, raising his voice a little.

Estel held his gaze for a few seconds, his heart sinking. He felt tears welling in his eyes and heat rising in his cheeks. He willed his brother to stop talking. Stop humiliating him. Stop revealing his shame to everyone in Rivendell. This wasn't helping anyone. Elladan was angry. He could see it in his eyes. 

"Leave it." The young human growled, his rage growing. "It is not your business, it is no ones but mine. You were not there; you trust the words of some stranger from the south but seek to disgrace your own brother. Only I know what happened, only I need to know."

"I want to know, nay, I deserve to know what happened for the precise fact that you are my brother!" The twin's voice was now almost a shout, and had drawn the attention of the whole room. 

Estel scowled, and turned away, heading for the nearest way out. He didn't want to stay for a public argument, nor allow his sibling to say anything else. His cheeks burnt and he knew that they were pink like ripening cherries; his cheeks always went this colour at the slightest embarrassment. They were probably crimson now.

"Estel!" Elladan cried out, his voice pleading and helpless but still loud enough for everyone to hear. "Why do you turn your back on me? Can you not understand why I am so hurt? That man. the man I found in a ditch with a broken arrow in the heart. had his filthy hands on my little brother, my dear Estel, touching what didn't belong to him!"

Estel froze. 

Eyes wide, he looked around the room. The Gondorians stood equally still, staring at him open mouthed, shocked. If his cheeks were not a deeper red than the blood that ran from his veins before, they certainly were now. He felt sick. Everyone was looking at him, trapped like a caged animal in their stomach-churning gazes. If ever he wanted to disappear, it was now. He wanted to run but his legs weren't listening. The silence was almost as humiliating as everyone watching him. Estel turned to look at his brother; his tall slim frame standing in front of him, unmoving like the elegant statues that stood around the halls. His face was solemn, regretful even, but his eyes still burned with questions. 

"Elladan," Legolas hissed, switching to his native language to preserve some degree of discretion. "You have said enough, do you not also owe it to him now to hold your tongue until a more appropriate moment? You are not helping anything." 

The ebony haired elf flinched as if he had suddenly remembered where he was. His youthful face was creased with an uneasy frown, eyes dark, flickering to the side to meet Legolas' scathing gaze. He nodded slightly though it was barely noticeable; his gaze trailed around the room and felt all the eyes on him. He stiffened, and turned back to face his young human brother, who stood motionless a few feet away. Estel was blushing, his shoulders hunched, hands trembling. Their eyes connected for a moment but the smaller being quickly looked away, ashamed, stunned or furious. It was impossible to tell, Elladan noted. Perhaps it was all three. Regret surged through the twin and he rushed forward to embrace him once more.

"Amin hiraetha." _[I'm sorry] _He murmured.

Before he could wrap his long arms around the boy, Estel shoved him away roughly, sending Elladan sprawling backwards. 

"Speak not to me." He spat, tears rolling down his cheeks, before scampering out of the room. 

The elven twin, startled at his reaction, moved to follow him, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"I will go." Legolas said softly but icily. "You have done enough." 

He disappeared in the same direction as Estel had, giving his friend a lingering glance to cement his current disdain toward him.

* * *

The silence was hard to bear. He knew the longer his father didn't utter a word, the angrier he was. The elven lord paced in front of him, looking to the stone floor, deep in thought until he sank into his leather chair. Elrond rubbed his temples with his pale fingers, closing his eyes. He looked weary, older even, his frown lines more pronounced than before. Elladan stood impatiently in front of him, full of regret and worry for Estel, but also with the need to know more. His twin entered the study; quietly shutting the door behind him and Elladan instantly felt his stare burning into him.

"Gandalf is kindly tending to our guests, though he would rather be here." Elrohir's voice was muted and a little shaky. "Legolas is with Estel in his bed chamber, he thought it best he spoke with him alone."

"I should be with him." Elladan muttered.

The sudden crash of Lord Elrond's fist on the desk made both of them jump. 

"Do you realise what you have done?" His voice was calm, but his eyes told them he was far from that. 

"I didn't mean to-"

"You humiliated him in front of strangers, but more importantly you humiliated him in front of his family and friends."

"He should feel no shame, it is not his fault." His son tried to reason.

"What he should and should not feel is irrelevant, you know this, do not try to feign ignorance on this matter, Elladan, it is tasteless and misplaced in these dark times. Estel is a child trying to understand the wrong inflicted upon him, trying to move on and escape the nightmare he has endured these past weeks." He scolded. "He should not feel ashamed but he does. Help him, do not hinder him."

Silence fell between them once more, thick and as uneasy as before. A few moments passed, though it felt like an age and eventually Elrohir broke the hush, clearing his throat loudly.

"Perhaps somebody would be kind enough to tell me what is going on?" He asked gently.

* * *  

Legolas stood on the balcony beside him, gripping the elegant spindly rails tightly, words did not come freely to him and he remained silent, letting the evening sounds echo around them. The bluish grey haze of dusk settled upon the valley, and dark storm clouds loomed over the Misty Mountains, threatening to creep closer. A swift breeze bristled through the trees, forcing the yellowing leaves to depart from their branches and flutter purposelessly into the distance. It was a crisp evening; strangely calm between each gust of wind, subdued like many a day had become in these parts of late, but especially so tonight. 

News had travelled fast. Whispers and hushed conversation flooded around them faster than a bolt of lightning in a storm, and the elf cringed. 

"You don't have to stay." Estel said simply, voice composed. "I'm not going to throw myself off or anything." There was a pause, and the human moved from his friend's side, sitting on the timber bench at the left of the large balcony. "Even the dead have memories."

Legolas turned to look at Estel; his manner was calm and there was a bitter smirk on his face but it didn't disguise the anguish in his eyes. His eyes. They had emotion in them, and he hadn't seen that in a while, but he did not rejoice as he thought he would. The sadness in those big pools of silver sliced through the elf like a dagger in the heart.

"I knew this would happen." He muttered. "He hates me."

"Elladan does not hate you." The fair elf replied quickly.

"Then why did he do it?"

Legolas held his gaze, sitting beside him as the breeze sent his blond locks swirling in all directions.

"He was afraid, Estel. Receiving that news by himself from two strangers hurt him."

The dark haired boy shifted irritably. "And he thought he would repay me by humiliating me in front of everyone? Did you see them, Legolas? All staring at me, pitying me, laughing, gossiping. A good story to take back home for them, I bet."

"No one thinks that."

He snorted. "No? I am no elf, but I can hear them. Hushed discussion among those who probably cannot even remember my name, my father regaling those who I prayed would never know with all the sordid poison that Raenir tells him."

"It isn't like that, little one." He spoke softly, his blue eyes twinkling with the rising moon.

"Don't call me that, and do not treat me like a fool! I am neither and you know it!" Estel cried angrily, rising to his feet.

"There's no need to get angry. If you wish me not to call you that, then I won't, but I am not treating you like a fool." He remained sitting, watching the young human in the dwindling light.

"Stop it, Legolas!" He snarled, returning to the spot where the elf had found him. "I know Ada speaks to him everyday and I somehow doubt it is about the hospitality of elven imprisonment. You are the only one who I can trust to be honest with me, please do not turn your back on me now." His last words were barely a whisper. "What does he say about me?"

The fair elf remained silent, his heart thudding. Night had invaded the dell rapidly, the sun now a lingering red glow in the west that seemed to had taken the soothing mildness of autumn with it, leaving behind the bitter edge of winter to attack the last comfort left for the troubled child. He watched the stars emerge from their daytime hideaways, toying over whether he should speak the truth or try and soften Raenir's harsh words. He owed it to Estel to be honest, but once again, he could find no words to speak. 

"Please."

Legolas looked to the boy he had once hated, but now felt the brotherly bond that he shared with Lord Elrond's other sons. His heart grew heavier, though he could not see his eyes; he knew the distressed pleading that was in them. It was probably the same look Carinyc had disregarded in the forest that night. Or found pleasure in. The elf turned away, his stomach lurching at the thought.

"What satisfaction could you find in that man's words?" He eventually managed to ask; though his voice was so quiet he wasn't sure he'd spoken at all.

"None probably." Estel admitted quietly. "But at least I'd know what my father thinks."

"What Raenir says and what Lord Elrond thinks are two very different things. Your father believes you."

"How can he believe me? I have told him nothing." 

"Then he believes me."

"And what have you said? I have barely spoken a word to you either." 

"I know enough. I remember Carinyc; I remember how he looked at you and the sickening worry I felt every time he even glanced in your direction. I remember finding you; I remember you in my arms that day, crying and scared. I do not need you to tell me the finer details to believe you and neither does your father or your brothers or Gandalf. or anyone." He replied sincerely.

Silence fell between them once more, the nightly noises of the elven refuge filling the void once more. 

"Maybe I do not need to know for those reasons, but I still ask for you to tell me anyway." 

"Why?"

"Because I need to know."

Legolas stared at him, unwilling to relay the barrage of lecherous claims they had been subjected to already. He had to do it. Closing his blue eyes, he nodded sadly.

"I will not inflict all the details upon you, and I cannot be swayed on that." He muttered. "Essentially, he says you got nothing you didn't agree to, that you-"

Estel smirked unexpectedly, a wry smile that couldn't disguise the hurt. "Were asking for it?" He paused. "He said the same to me." He continued, turning around to force Legolas to meet his gaze. "And you don't believe that?"

His tone was light, but transparent, his tightly clenched fists giving it away.

"No."

"Good." The young boy murmured, glancing away momentarily. "Do you go to him often?"

"Not really. I find it hard to keep my temper around him."

"And my father doesn't?" His voice was suddenly meek, anxious.

"Lord Elrond has more composure than I but it doesn't make it any easier." 

* * *

A month passed, and an early winter had set in, the mornings frosty and air icy. Gandalf had left as he intended, the farewell uncomfortable in Estel's absence. He had said goodbye privately just before dawn, though that too was more than awkward and of little words. Rivendell was quieter than usual, and despite taking meals, although admittedly little else, together; Estel had not spoken a word to Elladan since their confrontation. It was not entirely out of hate, or anger, but the pair's inability to express regret. The elven twin could not find the words to apologise the way he wanted to, and the human simply couldn't find any at all. 

Estel had become more distant, and was rarely seen between meals. He spent most of his time wandering the forests of Rivendell listening to the soft crunch of the leaves beneath his feet, or the twittering of the birds, disappearing into the dreamer he used to be. On occasion, he had found himself slipping out of the borders of the valley on the old paths he had taken. It wasn't the same. The childlike arrogance had deserted him and the painful vulnerability of being alone gnawed at him, disturbing the peace he had once found there. He had found a cave high in the side of the valley that allowed him to look down on the halls and shielded him from the icy northerly wind. It wasn't special, but it gave him the solitude he searched for and made his father's argument that he would catch a chill groundless.   

It was another cold and windswept night, the rain battering against the windows miserably. Estel watched the trees sway and bend in the strong gusts, remembering how afraid he had been of nights like these. The candlelight flickered in the draught, the glow dancing over his features that had almost fully healed, and he heard the soft knock on his bedchamber door and the slight creak of it opening. He didn't need to turn around. It was Legolas. He always came an hour after dinner. His steps were silent and Estel didn't speak at first; he never did. 

"I didn't see you at breakfast." The elf said quietly.

He always began with small talk, which usually bothered the human, but not tonight. He didn't want to talk about Raenir tonight.

"I was up at dawn, I couldn't sleep." Estel replied.

"Your studies are going well, I hope?" 

"Yes, Ada lets me study privately now. I prefer that." 

"You spend too much time alone." Legolas had said that for the past two weeks. 

"I've always been a loner, my own company is sufficient." He always said that. It wasn't completely true but neither was it a lie.

"Your father misses you."

"I know."

Legolas nodded, used to that answer, and sat in the armchair opposite the window. "Have you spoken to Elladan?"

"Has he spoken to me?" He answered in the same casual manner as he did every night.

The fair elf didn't laugh like he usually did, and Estel turned around. Legolas' face was grim. Normally he smiled and made the young human smile before they talked seriously. It was an unusual routine, but being treated like an adult kept Estel sane. 

"You are merry tonight." He smirked. "That cheer is infectious."

"Sorry." 

He watched the distracted elf for a moment, frowning and moving to his usual seat on the bed. 

"What has he said?" Estel asked softly.

Legolas looked up at him. "Nothing new. His constant lies and sniping are draining that's all. Elrohir joined me today for the first time and it really hurt him. I've never seen him so angry and so distraught at the same time. I just wish we could decide what to do with him."

Estel got up and returned to the window, pressing his forehead against the cool pane of glass. The strain had really begun to show on the Mirkwood elf, and now that he thought of it, everyone seemed more down than usual. He didn't like to see his family suffer over his problem. In the past fortnight, one idea had begun to dominate, and he had been gradually plucking up the courage to do it. He had to. To confront the last obstacle in his path. He didn't know what he would do when he was there, whether he'd speak or just listen. 

"I want to see him."

The blond elf's eyes shot up.

"No."

"It's the only way."

"To hurt you further? I've watched some of the old Estel returning, the sarcastic comments squeezing back into conversation, emotion that was lost in your eyes reappearing. I don't want to lose that." Legolas hissed fervently.

"To stop this. To bring an end this ridiculous stream of venom that's slowly infecting us all." The dark haired human replied calmly.

"And how will you seeing him do that exactly?" His voice harsh and angry.

"I don't know." Estel admitted. "But he wants to see me so I'll give him what he wants and see what happens."

The taller being stared at him incredulously. "No."

"I can handle him."

"The same way you could the night his words almost killed you?" 

"I'm stronger now."

"How do you know that?"

"Because you tell me everything he says every night and I am not dead, am I?" He growled irritably. "Please, Legolas, I need to do this whether it helps or destroys me."

"And if it destroys you?"

"Then it destroys me in one quick swoop rather than slowly driving me mad." Estel said softly but firmly.

Legolas felt silent, rubbing his temples tiredly before running his fingers though his long mane. "Please tell me you don't mean that."

"Five minutes alone, that's all I need."

"I can't. I will not expose you to him again."

"It is different now, I have the power, and I can walk away."

"You say that, but I've been down there with him, you stay and listen to his spiteful taunts even though you want to leave. I don't want the same to happen to you." He pleaded, moving so that he stood just inches behind him.

Another hush fell between them, as often did now; a flourish of words and rattled conversation followed by an awkward pause. Estel hadn't moved, his eyes were closed and he still rested against the window. Silently, Legolas' hands slid onto the human's hips and turned him around to face him. They stared at one another, faces inches apart, grey fading into blue. 

"Please." Estel whispered, clasping the elf's face gently. "I want my life back."

Legolas clenched his jaw, and nodded reluctantly.

TBC.

Okay, this was meant to be longer and include the meeting, but that would have probably run to 6000 words+ and taken me another week to write, so I left a kind of cliff-hanger to wet your appetites once more. final chapter next week! Oh crap, I just read through the chapter. It's utter bollocks. Fuck it, I don't care anymore it's nearly midnight and I'm tired.

Tmelange - Hah, if I've done something remotely useful in this story, it's awakening a dormant emotion in someone. Thank you, you're very sweet! Let's ride the roller coaster one last time for the big dip. is it a dip? I don't know, I haven't been on a roller coaster since I was 10, this is my only excitement.

Dragonfly32 - Oh, I do apologise, the disturbing news wasn't as bigger a twist you'd hoped. I thought it was obvious what it was but maybe I'm wrong.or you're dense. Oh, that helps Alice; insult your reviewers, that'll make you popular. It's an undiagnosed form of Tourettes. honest

Leggylover03 - Yeah, I've kinda got into the habit of not much action and too much emotion.whatever. Emotions/fights, same thing in the end isn't it?

Girl with too longer a name - Oh, that's a shorter version of your name isn't it? Damn, Alice, you suck on kinds of levels tonight, don't you? This is slight schizophrenia. I don't if there is a healthy amount of sick pleasure but I'll do my best. And that's not a hint. (Honest)

Christul - Umm.here's the thing, I'm British and happy endings really aren't programmed into my system. I'll try, but healing takes a long time so can you do me a favour and imagine the next seven years of healing until my next story?!

Grumpy - Yes, I'm back, I've tended to disappear more times than Afghans in caves. ooh bad joke. 

Tigerlily713 - Aaw, and you're lovely as ever. Can you tell I'm tired, I couldn't even think of a wisecrack in the last review. Aargh!

Hallagurthial - Wow. You say that a lot. Not that it's a bad thing, in fact it's quite good in this circumstance, isn't it? Oh god, I'm mentally ill!

Rae George - *sob* you like me, you really like me *sob* or not. it's hard to tell. ;) 


	21. technicalities

We come to it at last, and I mean at last! Even I've been exasperated with how long this chapter has taken to write. This chapter I would I like to stress was ready for posting on Wednesday, but no, I couldn't post it because of 'recent infractions'. Remember that. If I'm late with posting and don't tell you there's going to be a delay, it's because I'm not allowed to. Fascists. Anyway, you all seemed very taken with my rant, and all I can say is don't dip white chocolate in you tea, it makes for some very hyperactive behaviour. Ahem… Oh look… Greg Rusedski's been cleared of doping offences. Goody, another fun summer of Wimbledon disappointment to look forward to. Oh, and I got an A on my Politics exam, one more step to world domination. Mwahahahaha. I've got to stop writing down whatever comes into my head. Right, no random rants, this is the last chapter of a very draining story. I'm not entirely sure how it turned out this way, I had a vague idea for an angst fic and it transformed into this. Yeesh. Anyway, it's been a great ride and all your reviews have been wonderful, so thanks everyone. 

Oh and the song lyrics are by Will Young, who you might remember from World Idol or whatever that nonsense Christmas day programme it was. I'd like to make it plain that he does not have a mullet and is not a wanker. He laughed through the results because: 1. He's moved on since Pop Idol. 2. He could see what a farce it was. 3. The confused look on Ms Clarkson's face when the hobbit beat her every time was hysterical.

I've said my peace.   

Chapter Twenty-one: Technicalities

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You run, you run

But this ain't livin

You wish you could go back

And begin it, all over

But it's over

You fight, you fight

You just keep saying

You'll feel better come sooner or later

In no time

It's been a long time

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was dawn. Or was it dusk? For a moment Legolas couldn't remember. 

It was dawn. 

It could have been midday such was the thick blanket of cloud that hung over Rivendell. There was a low grumble of thunder and the rain lashed down disapprovingly. It had rained all night. He knew that because he had not slept a wink. It was still quite dark; light enough to see exactly where one was going but murky enough for adequate cover. The elf wasn't sneaking; his presence near the dungeons at this hour would not raise an eyebrow. Estel was. He wasn't supposed to even know where they were. He did, of course. Such underestimations worked in their advantage. He was meeting the human near the cells rather than going there together, it was easier to go unnoticed this way. 

Legolas moved swiftly and without a sound, as all elves did. The rain streamed down his hood and occasionally clung to the end of his nose, hanging like thawing icicles in spring. His keen blue eyes sparkled apprehensively in the gloom. This was no morning to be outside. They should be in their beds or gathered around a roaring fire drinking tea and sharing stories, not waiting in a storm. 

Waiting for what?

This was the biggest mistake he'd ever made. He knew it already. His stomach knotted and now that he thought about it, he couldn't remember how he'd ever agreed to it. Estel was very persuasive. Or it was a good idea. Elves were not known for their indecisiveness but it seemed to have become a trait of his lately. He had been decisive. He'd agreed. Why?

He approached the entrance that was hidden at the back of the halls. It wasn't hidden, just unspecified. Not mentioned. It didn't need to be, Rivendell was a haven and rarely had prisoners. An intricate labyrinth of cells with guards and bars and imposing gates served its purpose in Mirkwood, Raenir was the only prisoner, two guards were all that was necessary. Necessary. This meeting was not necessary.

A shadowy figure emerged from behind a tree, cloak soaked in the downpour, the bases of the trunks surrounded by mist. 

"You're early." Legolas said quietly.

"As are you." Estel replied, his breath fogging like a boiling kettle. His voice was shaky, nervous, and the elf frowned.

"Sleep well?"

"I didn't even try." He murmured. "I've been trying to work out what to say to him."

"You don't need to do this." Legolas tried once more.

"I do. You cannot dissuade me now."

The fair being watched him, his face was hard and eyes determined. He sighed inwardly. "Wait here, I will send the guards away, but they will not be gone long. When they are out of sight, make your way in - if you feel you can face him."

"I can." 

Legolas nodded, and disappeared out of sight. Walking down the candlelit tunnel, he looked at his hands, lost in thought until he turned the corner to the first gates. One of the guards, Tithrandil, stood tall and alert, his dark brown hair plaited formally.

"Prince Legolas," He acknowledged. "It is barely dawn."

"I know, but I wish to speak to him alone. You must be hungry, take Legaramir and get some breakfast." 

"The prisoner is asleep." The elf replied, a little unsure at the prince's order.

"Then I shall wake him." He said irritably.

Tithrandil held his gaze, before reluctantly bowing and opening the gate to let him in. "Come Legaramir, Prince Legolas has graciously volunteered to take watch while we get some breakfast." His voice was hesitant but trusting, and placed the cool set of keys in his palm. 

Legolas observed their exit, watching their shadows lengthen then disappear into the bleak morning light. Leaving the gate open, he made his way slowly down the passage, his footsteps were silent to a man's ear but to his own heightened senses, the scrape of his sole against the stone floor was deafening. He wondered if he was more nervous than Estel. He stopped and his eyes settled on the sleeping form of Raenir. Two torches burned brightly in the basic cell, they were not worried about a suicide attempt. He was not that selfless. And there was no advantage to be had by setting anything in there alight for he would be the only one not to escape. Like he said, Raenir was not that selfless. 

The elf did not wish to see him again so soon. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end like it always did down here, an anger growing in his heart and his face darkened. He would at least give him a rude awakening this morning. Opening the barred door, the hinges squeaked loudly, the sound echoing in the underground prison, but didn't wake him. He looked down at the sleeping man huddled underneath a thick blanket; his greasy black locks hid his hateful face.

"Get up!" He growled angrily, shaking his shoulder roughly and pulling the covers away.

Raenir woke with a start and sat up wearily. "Morning handsome." He sneered with his usual infuriating smirk.

"Listen to me," He hissed, pinning him to the ground. "You will not play the stupid games you insist upon today. You will not mock, provoke or goad in your normal charming manner, nor will you even look at him too long."

"What are you talking about, elf?" The human asked. "Oh." His smile returned. "Now this I did not expect…" He peered underneath the blond figure's arm to see Estel standing in the doorway. "Couldn't keep away, little one?"

Estel's face hardened, a mixture of fear and hate. If anger were there too, then it would be a very dangerous mix. "Something like that." He said simply.

He stepped forward into the cell, his wet boots leaving footprints and the flickering flames of the torches lit up his face. The scar on his cheek had reddened in the cold and his teeth chattered as he pulled the sopping hood down. His dark hair was damp and uncombed, tucked behind his ears with little care. Legolas caught his eye and nodded unwillingly, shooting the prisoner a warning look before leaving them alone. He did not go far, just out of sight but within listening range. He couldn't understand why Estel had so vehemently insisted upon being alone. Once again he had worn him down. He was too good at that.

"I must commend the elves on their hospitality, it is by far the nicest imprisonment I've ever experienced." Raenir said dryly.

The young human paced past the shackled Raenir, suppressing the urge to cry. "So, you have been imprisoned before, for the same crime or was it a step up for you?" His voice had come out cold and stern. It was unexpected, but worked better than frightened and angry, which was how he really felt.

"I do not answer to the law and neither do I work in that circle. Your friends can hunt for my past but they will find nothing."

"Then what circle do you work in?"

He sniggered. "Is this why you're here? To ask the same questions as your so-called family? You will get the same answer. It is not your business. Say what you came to speak or go for I am growing tired of your company. Your brothers were so much more fun."

"In what sense?" 

"They are bad at concealing their anger. I made one of them cry just yesterday." Raenir cackled and Estel clenched his jaw, his fear rapidly being replaced by an overwhelming rage. "If I had known elves were that much fun, we would have abducted them and left you behind."

"Why didn't you? Why me and Legolas?"

"We didn't want your blond escort, he was in the wrong place at the wrong time you might say."

Estel stopped a few feet away from the older human, his feet scraping quietly as he turned to face him directly. "Why me then?"

Raenir grinned. It was a knowing smile and his eyes twinkled in the dim light. "It must be frustrating being the only one who doesn't know the truth about you."

"What truth?" He growled.

He laughed once more. "Your wounds have healed well, the ones I can see at least."

"My wounds are not your business. Any of them." The boy seethed. 

"Oh, little Estel, do not be so shy now, you never were before."

He didn't speak, nor move, but he flinched.

"Oh sorry, have I hit upon a sore spot?"

"Why do you insist upon speaking those untruths?" His voice was no longer firm, but ragged.

"Untruths? I speak of what I saw, you hide behind the innocence of your age but you cannot fool me." 

"Innocence? Your friend stripped me of that. With that he stole my dignity and my happiness. Then you come when I thought it was over and try to inflict the same ill once more." A tear rolled down his cheek, and he bit his lip twitchily. 

"He took nothing you didn't offer." He spat, his face creasing into a disgusted sneer. "And I would not touch you, I threatened you to see the fear in those big eyes, Carinyc scared you and I wanted you to be as afraid of me as you were of him. Men have simple pleasures, boy, you'll learn that soon enough. He liked to scare people, realise their worst fear and make them live it; that one moment of blind terror is enough for me. That surge of adrenaline is all I want."

Estel watched him for a moment, anger pumping through his veins, his fists clenched so tightly his hands ached and his fingernails dug painfully into his skin. Wincing slightly, he opened his hand and watched a few drops of blood trickle from small slits in his palm. It seeped into the creases, spreading over his skin like a scarlet flood across a parched desert. He gawped at it, mesmerised for a moment. The lit torch crackled in the draught, and the wind suddenly came howling down the passage, blowing his drying locks into his face. There was a chill that he had not felt before now which snapped him back to reality. 

The younger human turned his attention back to his shackled tormentor, and his silver eyes shone, as uplifting and magical as the moon in a clear night's sky. It was a superficial glistening, like sunshine in mid winter. They darkened, threatening, like storm clouds or black ice, softened with a light smoky glaze. They were like fog, comforting and placid but with hidden dangers. Not malicious dangers, but unseen, veiled hazards were more perilous than visible vicious ones. 

"So, you have had your fun, seen that fear… why do you insist on tormenting my family now?"

Raenir leant forward, the chains rattling loudly as he moved. "Because of this disgusting pretence of you and your so-called family. Because they are elves and have no right to claim you. You do not belong here. Not in this place. But do not think that in that my grievance does not also lie with you. You are why I am here. I hate who you are and what you could be. I will not let you destroy us."

"And what am I to become? How could I destroy you?" Estel bubbled with apprehension and anger.

"The scourge of mankind." He said simply, cryptically, a smile returning to his face. "An opinion only perhaps, but I am not the only one who holds it."

"What do you mean? I am only one person, a scourge on no one. I do not understand." His voice shook with confusion and his vulnerability rose.

The older figure sniggered. 

"Who am I?"

"It is not my place to tell. Ask those filthy elves."

"No! You tell me! You have terrified me, mocked me, insulted my family, inflicted so much pain that I can barely bring myself to look at you, and now you will listen to me and answer my questions!" He cried crossly.

"I do not take orders from the likes of you!"

"You are in no position to refuse me. You will be in this cell until you die a lonely old man while I will, according to you, be blighting mankind. I will give you a moment to think about that, or perhaps a month or a year or a decade…" The boy hissed, kneeling in front of the bearded human.

"You are coming a little close, young Estel…" His voice was low, husky, mocking. "Miss Carinyc's touch, do you?"

His eyes widened, and a shadow seemed to cross his young face, his formerly kind grey eyes were now almost ebony in colour, bringing out the flecks of green that glinted furiously. Estel's arm shot up, his hand clamping over Raenir's mouth firmly.

"You spit more venom than the spiders of Mirkwood!" He growled.

Raenir shifted, and squirmed out of the raging child's grasp, and Estel's hand slid down, leaving a scarlet smear from his bloody hand on the man's throat.

"And I will haunt your steps in any way I can until death takes me. It is the only pleasure I suppose I can enjoy now."

Legolas bit his lip, fighting his own instincts to intervene. Estel would have called if he couldn't take it any longer, the elf reasoned unconvincingly. One more minute. He was still in control. If he stopped him now then things may remain unresolved. Raenir had come close to telling Estel his true identity, but the fair being knew he wouldn't. He enjoyed playing games too much.

"…If you will speak only lies and poison, then I will silence you and you will listen to me for a change." The elf heard his friend cry. 

There was no answer.

"I am no man's bane. I simply wanted to live my life in peace, explore the lands, learn the wisdom of my foster father, maybe one day have a family… but you and he stole that. You are a coward and a villain, with a mind of malice. Evil hands to go with your evil thoughts. You took my innocence, pushed aside my childhood but I will not let you rob the rest of my days. The only scourge I will become is yours, I will make you watch me grow old and happy, you will listen to me for once and I will not have to suffer your empty words. I will not listen. You cannot touch me anymore, I am alive and I shall remind you of that fact until your days grow unbearably long and you beg me to put you out of your misery. And do you know what I will do? I would resist the temptation to watch you die slowly, wrinkled and alone, but rather put a sword to your throat and do as you pleaded, because by then I would have found it in myself to forgive you."

That was enough for Legolas, and he moved toward the cell. 

He froze.

Estel glanced back at him, a slim smile on his face as if a weight had been lifted. Slightly puzzled by the elf's expression, he turned back to look at Raenir, and gasped. His hand recoiled jumpily, heart thudding painfully hard. His stunned gaze trailed down and settled upon his handprint on the human's neck. Legolas had joined his side but he hadn't noticed. Meeting the older man's cold stare once more, Estel's eyes met with lifeless ones. Clambering to his feet, he tried to speak but the words struggled to come out.

"What have I done?" He managed, before he turned to run.

Legolas leapt up to pursue him, his feet padding against the damp stone floor until he reached the opening of the passageway and his fair features were dulled by the overcast morning. Following the fleeing youngster down the path, his stride squelching and splashing in the waterlogged path, the lingering fog made it difficult to keep track of Estel, and he screeched to a halt, just managing to avoid crashing into the returning guards.

"Did Estel pass you?" He asked frantically.

"Estel, my Lord? No-"

"He must have!" 

"We neither saw or heard anyone, this weather could conceal an oliphaunt though. Has something happened-"   

The elven prince ignored him, and sprinted away. "Estel!" He cried loudly but met no reply.

The days moved slowly, cold and stormy. Four nights passed and there was still no sign of Estel. Search parties had scoured the whole of Rivendell and the borders with no joy. The only anger at Raenir's death was that they had not inflicted it themselves. Everyone's concern lay with the young human, and his safety in the wilds. That's where most thought he had fled to, he had to have left the valley otherwise he would have long been found. Nights were the worst. It was in those long hours where the search became almost impossible and anxiety was at its highest. No one was happy with Legolas and they didn't hide it. Harsh words were spoken but not shouted, and they searched side by side. It wasn't the same anger as before, there was no hatred or real blame, just disapproval.

Dusk had long set for the fifth night, and the small party of elves returned to the halls, exhausted and downhearted. They had been gone two days and had reluctantly returned for a few hours rest. Lord Elrond and Legolas lingered at the back of the group, and stood on the stone steps, the icy sheets of rain soaking their already lank locks. They had been searching relentlessly since the Mirkwood elf had raised the alarm and had to be dragged back home. There was a dirty smudge across the younger being's cheek and their clothes were clogged with mud.

"It feels wrong to rest while he is out there alone in this weather." Elrond murmured. "The stars will stay veiled while Estel is absent from his home."

Legolas gazed up at the black sky, the moon hidden above the unbroken ceiling of rain cloud. It was true, the weather had been as miserable as Rivendell was.

"We will set out once more at dawn. Rest and recover your strength, I fear it will take a great effort to find him."

He nodded sadly.

"And do not let your heart sink to the depths, we will see Estel again."

A few hours passed, and Legolas lay in an uneasy slumber. His blond hair stuck to his face, damp and grimy from his days spent in the elements and dirt stubbornly clung to the creases of his skin. He awoke restlessly, unable to stay in one place any longer and dressed hurriedly. Moving silently along the darkened corridor, his limbs ached but eyes stayed wide and alert. The halls were silent, which was normal for the middle of the night, but eerily deserted. The party he had accompanied back was only a dozen strong and the majority of the servants and maids had joined the hunt. Trotting noiselessly down the staircase, he headed swiftly to the large wooden doors. Pausing, he glanced to the left and noticed the door to the Hall of Fire was open a crack. 

Legolas poked his head around the door, expecting to find Lord Elrond sitting by the fireplace, unable to sleep either, but it was empty. He slipped back out, but a slight movement caught his eye and he entered cautiously, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. His keen eyes darted around the room, and another pair of eyes blinked back. The elf's heart skipped a beat, and his sombre spirits suddenly lifted. In the shadows he stood, unsmiling, bedraggled, one arm supported by the other. He was filthy; his boots were caked in mud, and the rest of his clothes were grubby. His hair hung limply in greasy curls, and despite the warmth of the fire's glow, his skin looked pale and sickly, a film of sweat coated his forehead. The dim light made his face gaunt and his eyes were nervous, flickering around the as if he were looking for the nearest exit. His sleeve was especially stained, blood perhaps; the elf suspected he was wounded from the way he held his arm. 

"We have been searching for days, my friend." 

"I know. I have been running from you all for days. The whole of Rivendell is out there… except you. Do you think they searched this hard for us, or is the price on a murderer's head higher?" 

There was no humour on his voice, but Legolas couldn't help but laugh. An uncomfortable chuckle. Or relieved. Maybe it was because the situation was so unthinkable that it was funny. Or that if the past months hadn't been so dire then Estel would have made the same kind of comment to make him laugh. Nevertheless, that short snigger that had escaped so ungracefully from his mouth had hurt his young friend.  

"I have never fitted in here, how could I? Elves lead peaceful lives; they do not chart the years, nor engage in such drama. I have brought nothing but chaos and shame since I arrived." As he spoke, Estel's gaze shifted to the floor and he leant against the wall, turning away from the blond elf. "A project… hobby, that is what everyone called me when I first came here, it is what most think when they first hear of me. I cried at first, they were probably the first elvish words I learnt, and then I fought back. I didn't want to be here, I was different and they made sure I knew it. Their dislike and disapproval changed when the dreams came; suddenly they pitied me, a disturbed child who needed help. Maybe I did. Maybe I do now. The label faded away when I learnt to hide it better. A week ago they pitied me again or thought I was damaged goods. Now I am a murderer, a ruthless killer…" He trailed off and hall became silent but for the quiet crackle of the fire.

"Are you?" Legolas asked warily, his tone questioning but soft. "Did you plan to kill him? Is that why you wanted to meet him again?"

Estel turned to face the elf once more, the tears welling in his eyes sparkled and his lip quivered. "I did not even know my hand was on his throat."

He nodded. "That is what I thought. That's why I have confessed to killing him myself." The elf murmured.

He stared at the tall being for a moment, shocked and bewildered and shook his head. "I don't understand. I would not have you bear that burden, I killed him not you. Why would you try and take the blame? I am a murderer!" 

"Call it a repayment of kindness if you will, but that is not why I did it. I did it because I do not believe you to be a ruthless killer." He explained calmly, moving closer.

"I killed a defenceless man. That makes me a murderer."

Legolas frowned, and took Estel's hands in his. They were freezing and trembled a little, the small scabs on his palms grated against the elf's soft fingers. The human pulled away, but he held them tighter instead, and looked up into his eyes.

"Look at your hands – there is no blood upon them." He replied earnestly.

"There is death and malice."

"These hands," He murmured, kissing his knuckles gently. "Are not the hands of a murderer. They are the hands of a child, a scared, angry child with so much bottled up emotion that I am surprised you haven't burst. They inflicted death, yes, but not with malice. I do not believe there to be a nasty bone in your body, Estel."

He shifted uncomfortably, and bit his lip. "How can there not be?"

"I heard you in that cell, you told him you would show mercy and find it within yourself to forgive him. That is more than most could do; even in your fury there is kindness there. That's what convinces me." 

"You seem to be forgetting that I was strangling him as I said those words."

Legolas looked up at him and no matter how hard he tried, he could not stop an amused smile creeping across his fair face. Estel cocked an eyebrow, he had meant it seriously, but the elf giggled nonetheless. The human watched him laugh for a few moments, and felt a smile returning to his lips. It was a strange feeling. A forgotten sensation. 

"Merely a technicality." The elf smirked.

"A rather large one." He reasoned.

"Merely a rather large technicality then."

Estel snorted and pulled Legolas into a hug. "Thank you." He murmured. 

He tensed. There was someone else in the room. Breaking apart from the fair elf, he gulped nervously. He knew who it was. Lord Elrond stood in the doorway; he looked on the verge of tears, a quivering smile, relieved and apprehensive. The boy's heart raced, and he took a couple of steps toward him.

"Forgive me, father." His voice was barely audible. 

A tear rolled down the ebony haired elf's cheek and he shook his head. With that, Estel's heart sank painfully; he looked to the floor, hiding the falling tears. A shadow fell upon him, and the soft palm of his father guided his head up. There was a sincere, comforting smile on his ageless face.

"There is nothing to forgive."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You believe you're not good enough

It fills your mind

Plays

It's in the way of you and I

I'd say a thousand times

I know you're one of a kind

Will Young, Very Kind

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The End. 

A bit too fluffy for my liking, but feh. There will be a sequel, I've already planned two stories to go with this so keep your eye out for them, I'll give a brief summary after the reviews.

Tmelange – it was a bit out of character, but I know I've blerted out something when I was upset… this had a point to it, I'm sure it did. Oh crap. Ummm… thanks for all your reviews! *Scratches head* Hmm…

BabeyRachey – It's here, eventually. You wouldn't know how hard it was to write the Raenir/Estel scene. Almost impossible, I think the rest of the chapter took about two hours to write, that scene took almost a month. Hope you enjoyed it.

Isadora2 – Aha! I think I've found my first political follower… apart from that strange cult I made up last summer. Last time I heard from them was when I told them the apocalypse was upon us and they were heading to Tower Bridge to sacrifice themselves…ho hum…

Trustingfriendship – Well, Elladan's a bastard. Yup. Utter wanker with a big mouth. Oh wait… that's Colon Powell. Easy mistake to make.

Rae George – Huzzah! That saying is so damn addictive… where's our PotC dvd? Stop talking to yourself, Alice. Aargh! The voices in my head won't shut up! Memo to self: Mental. Hospital.

Dragonfly – How can you not know what bollocks is? Tut. It's in the dictionary man! Oh and the superbowl thing – who would trust a 23 year old man to do that routine? Even I'd be tempted to rip it off for the hell of it!

Leggylover03 – They don't hate Elladan, they were just angry that's all. They're all very protective to Estel and he screwed up.

Grumpy – my fingers are typing! Wait, my fingers are orange. How alarming! Curious. Of course I didn't watch the superbowl, just the news reports afterwards. I couldn't even tell you what sport it was. Did you kill the snow plough man? We just have a gritter that sprays stones at unsuspecting pedestrians…grumble. 

Rangergirl – My rants are just strange. It's a mix of exhaustion and slight hysteria at finishing a chapter. Must get some pills for that… oh and *cough* Estel did do it… it was always the plan. It made for some more angst didn't it? And I know how much you all need your fix of angst or you wouldn't be coming back for more would you?!

Vampy2k – Aaw, thank you! Any chance you're related to the Cheeky Girls? Just wondering. If you're not English then you probably won't have a clue what I'm talking about. Hell, even I don't know what I'm talking about.

TigerLily713 – Oh I'm sorry, I thought you said _more_ angst. Apologies. Meheh. My next story will have no angst in it, I swear. The one after however… all I can say is you ain't seen nuffin yet.

Redwood1 – Both stories? In one go? Damn, you're a braver man than me, I can't even remember what happened in the first one, or what happened two chapters ago. Hee, who says I'm not a true writer?

Astievia – Am I really as I seem? Now I feel like a shady character from a dodgy cop show. Yes I am as I seem, sarcastic, random and ever so slightly hysterical at times. And yes, I do have friends thank you. And no, I'm not banquo… LotR won 11 oscars, and it's cool, your first review didn't offend me, just confused me a tad. I recommend reading the news though…

Kaimee is me – I am doing a sequel, I hadn't planned on going into Carinyc's past, but you've given me an idea. I'm going chronologically through his live and he goes to Gondor in his late twenties I think, so… thanks for the idea!

Elven-star-of-gold – The violence isn't to everyone's taste I know… my family keeps trying to read this but I won't let them! Only the sister knows where to find it and she has no interest in it, which suits me fine! The next story has no violence, it's just going to be a bit silly cos I think we all need it.

Sim1 – You poor Americans! No Ned Kelly?! It was barely released here but I've rented the dvd since. Damn, that's cruel. Orli's accent's hysterical, the film isn't exactly cheerful though. I mean what was Gigli? Was it even released here, I can't remember! Then again they didn't release Hypnotic with Luka from ER here when it was bloody based in London. Grr. I was going to say, that spring has arrived and the sun is shining, but it hasn't, and it's cloudy. Hmm… Btw, this isn't torture, your review was too funny, thank you!

Evee3102 – Do you know that I got your review like 150 times in my inbox? Hee. I just read my rant and damn… I sound like I'm on crack. "Football" doesn't bother me as much as baseball, I mean what is that? It's so slow that I thought the game was over after two guys swung and missed the ball, but it just carried on. Eh? I'm fond of ice hockey though, the fights are great. I have many twists and turns, torture is a hobby of mine. I'm honestly not on crack. At least I think so…

Dudee – Sorry, I knew there would be one I made cry. I won't do it again or they'll my ff.net account. Again.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Next story: Untitled.

The years have passed swiftly, Legolas left Rivendell that spring and hasn't returned since. The formal life of Mirkwood is driving the prince mad, but with the unexpected arrival of an old friend who brings chaos wherever he goes, can the elven kingdom cope with such mayhem?  

One last thanks to all the top chaps and charming chickadees who have reviewed over the past months! 


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